Rhett
by djeanne
Summary: Rhett has left his life with Scarlett behind, and tries to start a new one. In the process, he forms an unlikely friendship. Story is now complete. Reviews are appreciated!
1. Chapter 1

Charleston

Rhett Butler sat in the lobby of the Grand Hotel late in the evening, stretching his long legs on the ottoman before him. He was sipping brandy and reflecting on his life in the past few months, since leaving Scarlett and his life with her behind.

Although he had more or less made peace with his family, he found he liked being alone now, without having to be polite company to his mother and sister. He had grown fond of them, to be sure, but since he'd come back to Charleston and gotten to know them all over again, he was reminded that they had very little in common. He had felt like an outsider with them growing up, and he felt like an outsider now. In his quest for tranquility and stability, their endless chatter about outings, his sister's silly friends, town gossip, social gatherings, and county happenings had been slightly amusing, almost comforting in its monotony. Now they were just tiresome. Another reminder that he was in a place where he didn't belong. And his mother, though loving and obviously well meaning, treated him as a young boy who needed to be taken care of in his woe, and it was stifling. He knew there were other men who liked being mothered, even by their wives, but he detested it. He has moved out of their house just this morning, despite his mother's concern about him going off and being lonesome, so soon after the loss of his beloved child; but thanking her for her kindness to him, he gently let her know he needed his own space and new surrounding to proceed with his life.

Where did he belong? Well, that was an excellent question, he though, as he lit a cigar and took a deep drag. When he left his house with Scarlett in Atlanta, which he had since named House of Horrors from the looks of the house and bad memories, he knew that was the last place he needed to be. He had to escape from there. His life with Scarlett was over, and he could no longer abuse himself and be faced with the visual reminders of Bonny all around. His mother's house was tolerable for awhile, but ultimately, it suffocated him. Briefly, he had though of his original idea to perhaps go to Europe, but he couldn't summon up the mental energy to embark on the long journey, so that idea was quickly dismissed. He needed to be around strangers right now, people who he could casually associate with, but who would require nothing more from him than he cared to give. So with its endless stream of people coming and going, moving in and out of town for days or a week at a time, enabling him to be alone without really being so, the hustle and bustle of the Grand Hotel seemed to fit the bill for the time being.

With his newfound freedom at being away from his kin, he thought he might enjoy a little recreation. With his ability to make quick casual friends through his smooth, easy conversation and innate charm, he'd perhaps find out where there was a card game going on, and maybe enjoy some feminine companionship later.

He had been without a woman since his last visit to Belle's place, and he knew that even if he ever went back to Atlanta in the future, that he'd never frequent the brothel again. It didn't hold the excitement and comfort it had in the past, with the same old drama, same whore. Oh, there was always a bevy of new girls there. Bell was astute enough to know she needed new blood to keep the men visiting regularly. However, they were all the same when it came down to it. They were trained very well in their craft, and his adventures there had usually been pleasurable, but in his later visits, he left with feelings of emptiness. It had never bothered him before, or at least back then, it hadn't mattered. But now it did, and the last thing he needed was to feel more hollow and numb than he already did.

But he was not so numb that he didn't feel the urge to be with a woman again. However, this time, not one of the regulars from a whore house. He wanted something fresh, an independent…a pretty, generous girl he might be able to find around the hotel. Not a problem for him, he smiled mildly to himself. He could always charm women enough so that their knees shook all the way to his bed. No woman had ever turned him away.

Except one.


	2. Chapter 2

Tara

Scarlett O'Hara Butler awoke in her bedroom at Tara, with a determination to make this day better than yesterday, and tomorrow better than today. Since Rhett left, she'd been intent on doing just that, and she was making progress. Whenever thoughts of Rhett nudged their way into her head, she shook them away, knowing if she let them linger, she'd go crazy with grief. Thoughts of Bonnie haunted her still, and while those were of a different kind of sorrow, she knew she had to push those away as well. She was well aware these feelings would never completely go away, so she did the best she could at burying them to a part of herself that she hoped wouldn't have to visit very much.

The first few days she had been at Tara were the most punishing. It was difficult for her to deal with her sorrow, and would cry so much that she mostly stayed in her bedroom. It was Mammy who finally came and convinced her that she had to get out of there eventually.

"You bettah nevah fo'get who you is, Scarlett O'Hara," she had said to her. "You got more gumpshun than anybody, and you bettah not act lak your life is ovah cuz some man done left ya."

"But Mammy, what am I to do? I can't live without Rhett! Maybe my life is over!" she cried again.

"I don't know wut ya gonna do about him, but I ain't worried about Cap'n Butler, I just worried about you. My Lamb ain't eatin' or sleepin' like she should be."

"Oh, how can I when I have to figure out a way to get him back," she said forlornly, but with determination. "I have to come up with a plan to make him…"

"Oh, no, you ain't thinkin' up no plan Miz Scarlett!" Mammy said in horror. "You ain't chasin' aftah Mist Rhett lak you did Mist Ashley."

"Well, I can't just sit here and live my life without him! What do you expect me to do?"

"Well, you ain't chasin' after him, that fa sure. Where did it git you with Mist Ashley?" She didn't wait for Scarlett to answer. "Nowhere! What you gonna do is let him come ta you."

"But Mammy…"

"Don't but me, Missy! You not gonna make a fool o' yaself. Gemp'man hate ta be chased. Dey lak ta be the one who does the chasin'"

Deep down she knew Mammy was right. It was just that, well it was hard to just sit there and wait. She felt like she had to take control of the situation. That's how she'd always lived her life, by taking control.

"I'm not going let my life just pass me by, Mammy! I have to do something!"

"Dat's right, you do. But it ain't gonna involve connivin' to get back Mist' Rhett. It's gonna be getting' my Lamb back, my Scarlett."

"I don't even know who that is anymore, Mammy," she said, feeling sorry for herself, burying her face in the pillows.

"Well, I do, and you will too, once ya git outta dat bed," Mammy said as she yanked backed the bedcovers. "Put on a pretty dress, Miz Scarlett! You got so many pretty clothes you brought back from Atlanta." She reached into Scarlett's closet and pulled out a pale green day dress, with puffed sleeves and lace around the collar. "Put dis on. Ah'll help ya."

Scarlett grudgingly picked her head up. Just looking at the dress perked her sprits a little. She'd gotten that dress in one of the finer shops in Atlanta almost a year ago, and hadn't even worn it yet. She slowly stood up and managed a slight smile.

"Dere, dat's my Lamb! Ya need to show dat pretty smile some mo'. Let's git ya dressed an' den go down to the parlor. Dere's some folks down dere from Savannah come ta call on Miz Suellen."

Scarlett's spirts didn't exactly soar on hearing that news, as she wasn't too keen on friends of Suellen, but company was company, and she hadn't seen anyone besides the members of Tara's household since she'd been there. If she could do anything at all to help her situation, it was get back out into the world a little.

"Okay, Mammy. Help me put the dress on," she said, holding up her arms for Mammy to tighten her stays. "Pull them tight. If I can't feel good, at least I can look good. Oh, and find my pearl drop necklace. It's around here somewhere, in my valise I think. It'll look so pretty with that dress."

Mammy chuckled to herself. Her Lamb was gonna be all right.


	3. Chapter 3

Atlanta

Scarlett had come to the city, with Wade and Ella in tow. She was trying to spend more time with them, trying to get to know them better. She looked at getting to know her children as a chore, but a necessary one, because losing Bonnie and Rhett and Melly had taught her not to take things for granted. And, she felt guilty not knowing them better, and felt that everyone thought she was a bad mother. Rhett certainly thought so.

She shook her head when Rhett came into mind, and turned her thoughts back to her children. It had been a few months she she'd been back to Tara, and she used that time to talk to Ella and Wade. They were famished for their mother's attention, and poured their hearts out to her of their grief over losing Bonny and Aunt Melly, and Scarlett let them know she missed them as well, but they were angels in heaven now, watching over all of them. She didn't know if she believed entirely in heaven, but she knew it comforted the children, and it comforted her to say it, as if saying it would make it really true.

Ella had been a challenge at first, because she was so silly and feeble brained. But after drawing her out, she seemed to slowly come around into a fairly intelligent child. She had just been missing the nurturing and socialization from her mother, and now that she was getting some of it, she blossomed before Scarlett's and everyone else's eyes. She had also started looking less like Frank and more like Scarlett. Her better features were taking shape, and with careful attention from Scarlett and the servants to her hair and clothes, she was a much improved child indeed.

Wade had become a sullen, angry boy since the death of Bonny and Aunt Melly, and Rhett's departure. He was angry at God for taking his little sister and his aunt, and angry at Rhett for leaving he and Ella and his mother all alone. But once Scarlett invited to express his feelings, he seemed to deal with it a little better. He still kept much inside, but replaced some of his anger with protectiveness towards his mother and Ella.

Overall, the biggest surprise to Scarlett was that she actually began to enjoy the company of her children. All she had done was to give to them a little, and they gave so much in return. It was a new feeling for her, and one that would carry over to other aspects of her life. She gradually began to realize that giving selflessly actually resulted in receiving so much more.

Today she was in town to visit the mill, and talk to Ashley about a new idea that had come to her. She had been reading in the newspaper about so much construction that was needed since the war, but a lack of contractors to handle the work. With the mill in place, she could expand to other areas like flooring, sheetrock, masonry and whatever else was needed to help progress construction in Atlanta. She wasn't in a position, nor did she have the desire to open shops for all of those types of materials. But if she could round up individual craftsmen who specialized in each one, she could find the business herself and put her crew in place. She could get businesses to hire her contracting company and make a fortune, with all the new construction that could go on. She liked her lips in anticipation of contract after contract being awarded to her company.

After depositing Wade and Ella into a little side office at the mill, she went alone to see Ashley. She had been excited to tell him her idea, but he, lacking a business mind, didn't see how it could work, and he told her so.

"Why would anyone hire your company, Scarlett? You don't have any experience in this type of business, contracting. And don't you think they'd rather deal with a man?"

"Great balls of fire, Ashley Wilkes!" Scarlett said, inflamed. "I'm not going to just sit and wait around for the business! I'm going to go after it! I can print bulletins and post them and take them around town to all the local businesses, and meet with the owners myself. I can put together a small building on spec and let them see it to prove the quality of work my company can do! And I'll have the references of the craftsmen who I hand pick to give to them!" Her anger was taking over, and she didn't bother to put it in check. "And if you think no one wants to deal with me because I'm a woman…why, how do you think I got this mill at this huge production capacity in the first place? You're a man, but could you have ever done what I did?"

Ashley looked away and sighed. Scarlett had loads of money, so why was she interested in making more? It was no use talking to her. She was so full of fire and gumption; it never did any good to try to change her mind once it was made up.

Scarlett knew she had hit a nerve with her last remark, attacking his masculine pride, but Ashley was so unnerving at times. Oh, why did she think he would understand in the first place?

"If you want to attempt to do this, Scarlett, I won't stand in your way," Ashley said. "And if I can be of any help to you in this ambitious endeavor, let me know."

"That's quite alright, Ashley," she said, raising her chin and walking away to gather her children, "but I will manage just heavenly alone."

Still smarting from his lack of confidence, she wondered what good he would be anyway with his way of thinking. She really should have known he didn't have the vision to see how this could make money. But he was the only one she had to talk to about this venture. There was no one else.

Though there was someone else she could have spoken to, she remembered, and he would have been the perfect person to help her, provide encouragement, and give her excellent advice.

But Rhett was nowhere to be found.


	4. Chapter 4

Charleston

Rhett walked over to the saloon that was next to his hotel and took a seat at the bar. He was growing tired of the hotel scene, and knew he needed to be moving on soon. His mindless one night stands were an enjoyable way to pass the time at first, and the fact that the women whose company he kept were only staying in town for a couple of days worked perfectly to his advantage. Once he'd had his fill of a lady, he could let her go with a tip of his hat, and no sense of commitment.

But after a month of endless card games, parties, and his late night rendezvous, he grew weary with this lifestyle. In his mission to keep his mind occupied and off of his misery, he thought casual associations with poker players and women was what he needed, and it worked for awhile. Then gradually, the old feelings of emptiness and depression started to take over, and so he started to skip the night revelry, turning down invitations all together and not soliciting anyone's company.

The saloon had few patrons at that time, which was early evening. As he sat with his brandy, trying to imagine what his next endeavor would be, a man of about 35 walked over and sat two barstools away from him. He was quiet for a moment, then looked at Rhett and said hello. He was a friendly, easygoing fellow who easily warmed up to strangers. He made small talk, and though at first Rhett wasn't in the mood for company, he found that he slowly started enjoying conversing with this man. He was intelligent, well informed of world events, and had a good sense of humor. His accent was familiar to Rhett, though he couldn't quite place it. It was an odd combination of a slight southern drawl, mixed with a dialect spoken in heavily populated parts of New York.

Studying the man, Rhett came to the conclusion that he was a different sort of fellow. He looked average enough, dressed simply and casually. His straight, light brown hair hung to his chin, and his eyes were hazel. But his mannerisms were just off handedly gentle, and his voice was inflected with a trifle bit of drama. Other men were uncomfortable around this type and chose to either ridicule or ignore them. They didn't want to be seen in their company, for fear of being perceived as "one of them", or, they shunned them for living what they judged to be an immoral lifestyle. But it didn't bother Rhett at all. If anyone was secure in his masculinity, it was Rhett Butler. Irregardless, he didn't give a damn what others thought, and as far as the man's lifestyle choice, that was certainly no business of his.

After their introductions, he learned that his name was Jacques LeBlanc, and he had been doing renovation work at the hotel. There was about two weeks' worth of work left, then the job would be complete, and he would be going back home to New Orleans.

"New Orleans," Rhett said. "I knew that accent was familiar. Very interesting, entertaining city. I've been there many times, and my wife and I honeymooned there," he said, and then stopped speaking. He hadn't meant to mention that he had a wife, since he didn't want to have to explain the unpleasant details of their estrangement, but it had inadvertently slipped.

Jacques had seen Rhett around the hotel here and there, usually with a new woman on his arm, so the news that he was married surprised him. And since Jacques wasn't a man who would walk on eggshells for anybody, he spoke his mind without hesitation.

"You're married, huh? Having a little trouble in paradise…"

Hell, Rhett thought, here it is. He cleared his throat and looked away. "My wife and I are separated. I'll be having divorce papers drawn up soon."

"I'm real sorry to hear that. You have any kids?"

Rhett took a deep breath. It was a simple question, and he couldn't blame the man for asking, but damn it, how could he answer without breaking down? But he knew it was a question he would be asked probably several times more in the near future, and he had to come up with a truthful answer eventually.

"I…er…I lost my daughter less than a year ago. She died of a broken neck after getting thrown from her pony. She was four years old." Much to his surprise, he had managed to say it without wavering.

Jacques' jaw dropped in shock. "Good heavens, Rhett! Please forgive my asking. Man, I'm real sorry for your loss. I can only imagine how devastated you must be, losing a child that way." That explains a lot, Jacques thought. He's been drowning himself in booze and loose women to try and escape his pain.

Rhett ordered another brandy and a drink for Jacques. Although the conversation was turning to painful topics, he couldn't help but feel relief getting some of the past off his chest. Growing up as a boy, he had always been a forward thinker, and had opinions and insights that were controversial, even radical – at least in the minds of his parents and conservative Charleston society. He was constantly reprimanded, often severely, for voicing his views on subjects like politics, religion, and the hypocrisy of strict morality. His father had tried to shame him into changing his way of thinking, but Rhett's strong mindedness and sharp intelligence wouldn't permit it. Instead, he started keeping his opinions to himself and became very guarded. He became an expert on hiding his feelings behind jeers, sarcasm, and mockery. Even after he stopped caring what people thought and voiced his unpopular views as loudly as ever, he never lost the habit of keeping up his defenses. As a result, very few people, if any, knew who Rhett Butler really was.

But this man was easy to talk to, and Rhett found himself opening up to him more and more. Much to his own surprise, he elaborated on the details that brought him to his and Scarlett's separation. He even went as far back to when he first met her and was instantly smitten with her spirit and fiery charm. He told Jacques of her marriages for spite and convenience, and subsequent children. He spoke of Scarlett's struggles during the war, her love for a man who was always beyond her reach, his own pursuit of her, their marriage and birth of their daughter, Bonnie. He even recalled, with bitterness, the day she locked him out of her bedroom, still mooning over Ashley, and the hurt he felt at her constant rejection.

Damn, Jacques thought to himself. What kind of woman would lock a man like this out of her bedroom? But he knew there had to be more to the story than Rhett was revealing, although he believed he was telling the truth. He had his own questions about certain things that he would for now, keep to his self.

He wasn't exactly intoxicated, but the brandy made it easier for Rhett to continue. And the sense of relief he was experiencing from his disclosure was a comfort.

He continued on. Their night of passion brought on by Rhett's drunken jealousy of Ashley resulted in another pregnancy, which ended in miscarriage. Rhett closed his eyes as he recounted how he had left her for a few months and hadn't even known she was pregnant, and Scarlett had fallen down the stairs because she was angry at a biting comment he made upon his return. He had felt a tremendous amount of guilt from that incident, and the guilt over Bonnie's death was consuming him.

"You've been through a lot of rough times in your life, that's for sure," Jacques said. "Or rather, you and Scarlett."

"Well, Scarlett and I are history, as they say."

"Is that what you both want?"

"It's what I want," Rhett said, lighting a cigar and taking a deep drag. "Scarlett had some kind of revelation after Ashley's wife died, finally realizing she didn't love him, and deciding all of a sudden that she loves me now," he said ruefully. "Imagine after all we've been through, she comes to that conclusion."

"So, what's the problem? From what you've been tellin' me, it's what you've been praying for."

"Well, first of all, I never pray. But to answer your question, the problem is that my love for her wore out, and I don't have the desire nor the energy to live a lie with her."

"But you haven't started the divorce process yet?"

"Not yet. Doing so would mean we'd have to meet sometime soon, and I'm not ready to do that. Scarlett's done so many things I can't forgive her for, even though she claims she's sorry about everything. I'm afraid I couldn't even be civil if I had to talk to her."

"Uh huh," Jacques responded, nodding his head a little. He looked quizzically at Rhett, trying to see something past his dark eyes. "You say you can't forgive her, but I don't believe that's true."

Rhett's eyebrows rose. "Why do you say that?"

"Because forgiveness is a decision. You can choose to forgive someone. She's apologized to you, hasn't she? You're just choosing not to forgive her, for whatever reason."

Rhett looked at him and said nothing. Then after a moment, spoke again. "So, anyway, I've been boring you with my life story. What's yours?"

"Uh, Rhett, your life is anything but boring, man. Well, let's see. I grew up in Uptown New Orleans, son of a prominent doctor, and my father kicked me out of the house when I was 14 because he didn't like the kind of man I was becoming." He looked at Rhett, and Rhett's quiet nod told him that he understood his meaning. "I took refuge with friends who lived in the French Quarter and wound up living with the family of a grade school pal. I met up with a group of bohemian types, and got involved with some people who painted houses for a living. I started painting houses too, for cash, but found I had a knack for picking out colors and decorating. I also got jobs laying down flooring, sheet rock, stucco…anything that had to do with construction. I picked up the skills quickly, because this is my passion. It's what I love to do. My favorite thing is renovation. I can plan the renovation of a house or room from start to finish, and have the knowledge to work with individual contractors to get the job done. I was doin' real good getting jobs up until the war, then there was nothing. Things are slowly picking up in New Orleans, but between jobs, I have to go out of town sometimes. That's why I'm working at the hotel. I'm renovating some of the suites."

"Did you do work on the Carolina suite?" Rhett asked, with interest.

"Sure did, that's the first one I did."

"You do excellent work, Jacques. That's the suite I just moved to a week ago when I asked for a newer set of rooms to stay. I like your style. It's luxurious, without being opulent."

"Thanks Rhett. I appreciate the compliment." He sincerely did. Rhett impressed him as a man of excellent taste. "I also did the renovation of the ballroom. Did you see it?"

"Yes, I did. I like the combination of colors. It's not something I would have ever thought of, but it works beautifully."

"There're blocks of shotgun houses in a neighborhood of New Orleans that have been abandoned since the war. I'd love to get my hands on 'em and fix 'em up. To me, that would be a dream job. But they're just sittin' there, empty, with no one to put money into 'em."

An idea slowly began to form in Rhett's mind, an idea that would make him money, but also possibly be the answer to keeping his mind occupied with something besides his grief.

"Who are some of the people you worked for in New Orleans, Jacques?" Rhett asked casually. "I have several friends there and who knows, I may be able to get them to throw a little work your way."

Jacques gave him some names and thanked him for the possible referrals.

They stayed and drank and spoke about lighter subjects, and Rhett actually found himself laughing here and there at Jacques' funny life observations. Finally, he stood up. "Thanks for the company, Jacques. This has been the first frank conversation I've had in months, and thanks for listening to me talk."

"Hey Rhett, no problem, I enjoyed the conversation too."

"Listen, I have an idea for a business venture, and I think you may be just the guy to help me get it off the ground. I need to do a little research and put some numbers together, but I think it will work. Would you be interested in talking to me about it? You'll be here two more weeks, right?"

"Yeah, two more weeks. And sure, man, I'd loved to hear about it. I certainly need the work."

"Good. I have to go out of town for few days, but I'll be back in a week or so. I can find you at the hotel, right?"

"Yeah, they let me stay in one of the smaller rooms at comp. You'll see me around."

"Good evening Jacques," Rhett said, shaking his hand.

"Evenin' Rhett."

Rhett paid his cheque and gave the bartender money for Jacques' drinks, waving off his protests.

Jacques watched him leave, and reflected on their conversation. He wasn't exactly surprised that Rhett revealed so much to him. People had always found him easy to talk to, and he was a good listener. He was also good at reading people, detecting messages between the lines of what a person said.

There was the obvious, of course. He knew Rhett was a very rich man, and a sad one as well. And he certainly had good reason to be sad. But he was also an angry man. And it wasn't all anger toward his wife, either.

And for all of his womanizing and bitter feelings for Scarlett, Jacques was also aware of another emotion that Rhett was suppressing. He was sure that Rhett still loved his wife very much.


	5. Chapter 5

Atlanta

Scarlett was standing in front of Bonnie's small grave at the cemetery. She was all alone, save for a bluebird that tittered about. It was a sunny day in early spring, cool but not cold, and a gentle breeze blew her hair softly from her face. Somehow, the breeze and the smell of freshly clipped grass gave her a peaceful, serene feeling, and she felt as though Bonnie's spirit was there with her.

"Happy birthday, my darling," Scarlett whispered. Suddenly, she felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand up, and startled, turned around, almost expecting to see Bonnie before her. But it wasn't Bonnie. It was Rhett.

"Hello, Scarlett," he said to her, his voice flat.

"Rhett!" she said, recovering a little from her shock. "I…I'm so surprised to see you here. I mean, I'm glad to see you." Not knowing what his mood would be, she gave him an uncertain smile.

Scarlett looked at him and her smile faded. His face was bland, unreadable, and his eyes were tired, just as they had been the day he left her. In his arms was a colossal bouquet of blue tulips.

"Surprised? Why are you surprised, Scarlett?" he asked testily. "Don't you think I'd remember Bonnie on her birthday?"

Scarlett closed her eyes, then took a deep breath and opened them. "Of course you would, Rhett. It just that, well, I haven't seen you in such a long while."

Rhett looked away from her and said nothing. He turned his attention to his daughter's grave. Walking over to it, he gently laid the tulips on top.

They were quiet for a few moments, then Scarlett said softly, "She would have only been five years old today, Rhett. Why was did she have to leave us so quickly?" she asked bitterly, biting back tears.

Rhett spoke quietly, mostly to himself. "I still can't believe my baby is gone."

The pain in Rhett's voice caused Scarlett to let out a sob, choking to hold it back, but not succeeding. As she was covering her face with her hands, Rhett reached over, and in a moment, they were in each others arms, holding each other tightly. With Scarlett's head on Rhett's shoulder and his face buried in her hair, they let their tears flow freely.

They stood holding each other a long time, until the tears had mostly subsided. Then Rhett led Scarlett by the arm to a small bench near the grave and they sat down. Wiping her eyes with the handkerchief Rhett handed to her, Scarlett said, "I often think about how you're dealing with your grief all alone, Rhett. How have you been handling it?"

"Well, I haven't exactly been alone, my pet," Rhett said. Then, seeing Scarlett's lids drop, he admitted, "Some days are better than others. Some days are worse." He shook his head. "The guilt I have is devouring me."

"Oh Rhett, please don't feel guilty!" Scarlett pleaded. "It wasn't your fault!"

Surprised, Rhett said, "Of course it was my fault, Scarlett." He sighed, "I didn't make the pony stop short in front of the bar, but I could have stopped Bonnie from attempting the jump."

"No, Rhett, listen to me, darl…" she stopped herself. "Please listen to me. It was an accident, pure and simple! No one could stop Bonnie once she had her mind made up, even you! Please don't let guilt tear at you, Rhett!"

Rhett looked at her with eyebrows slightly raised, bewildered by her soothing tones, so unlike the way she had ever spoken to him in the past. "I thought you blamed me for it all this time, Scarlett. You certainly told me so after it happened."

"Oh, Rhett, please forgive me! I didn't mean it at all! I was upset and angry, so I said things that I didn't mean. It wasn't your fault. Oh, do forgive me, Rhett!"

Rhett looked straight into her eyes as she pleaded with him for forgiveness. He could read sincerity all over her face.

"Thank you for that, Scarlett," he said meaningfully. "You're asking for my forgiveness, but it's forgiveness from you that I really needed, and to know you don't blame me. It's a comfort to hear that from you," he said, giving her hand a small squeeze.

They sat for awhile in quiet reflection, then finally rose and walked the few steps to the grave once more. Scarlett said a short prayer, then they turned to leave.

As they exited the cemetery gates, Rhett said, "Listen Scarlett, since we're here together, there are matters I have to discuss with you. I have a few hours before I catch the next train back to Charleston. Do you want to have lunch with me? You can fill me in on what's going on in your life, and I'll fill you in on mine."

Oh, no, Scarlett thought, he's going to bring up the divorce. How could she prevent it? But, at least she'd get to be with him for awhile longer before he walked out of her life again. And she'd figure out a way to steer the conversation away from that terrible subject, somehow.

She smiled up at him, "Of course, Rhett, I'd love to have lunch with you."

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Sitting at the restaurant, Scarlett looked over at Rhett's handsome face. And it was still handsome, even though it lost the spirited look it once had. He stared back at her, black eyes questioning, as if waiting for her to say something. What she wanted to say was to please, please come back home and give their marriage another chance. But Mammy's words echoed inside of her head, "Let him come to you."

"Rhett, I want to tell you about the idea I've had for a new business," she said, to break the silence, but also to get his valued opinion.

She told him her idea for a contracting company after seeing there was a shortage of them in Atlanta, and that she'd already lined up all of the individual craftsman and their crews, posted bulletins, and gone door to door to businesses to let them know she was ready to let her company work for them. Her eyes lit up when she told him about the three jobs she already had pending, and the profit she figured she'd make from each one.

"And, I required fifty percent of their money up front, so I have enough to pay for crews and materials until the jobs are done, then I'll collect the remainder. With my profits, I can start buying some of my own equipment instead of renting and save on overhead…"

As she rambled on excitedly, pink cheeks blazing, Rhett watched her, a gleam of admiration in his eyes. He had known when he left her that she was distraught at him leaving, or at least, she presented herself as such. And yet, instead of wallowing in her distress she'd gotten right back on her feet and kept herself busy with a moneymaking project. Which is more than he himself had done, he had to admit.

"So," Scarlett said. "What do you think of my idea? Do you think it's good, or do you think I'm in over my head?" she asked, smiling. She knew she could make the business thrive, it already was. She just liked getting Rhett's approval.

"It seems to me that it's advanced past an idea, and you're already well on your way to making a success of it," Rhett said. "Yes, Scarlett, I think your idea was very timely and intelligent. You saw there was a need and took advantage of it. Hats off to you, Scarlett O'Hara," he said, bowing his head slightly.

She smiled, flashing her dimples, pleased with his response. Then her smile slowly turned into a glare. Belle Watling had walked into the restaurant with one of her girls then sat and ordered drinks. Though Scarlett saw Rhett notice her entrance, he had nonchalantly looked away from her.

Scarlett couldn't resist. "Well, aren't you going to go and say hello?" she asked, scornfully.

Rhett looked at her solemnly. "That's all over, Scarlett. It's all in the past."

Though his words were quiet and brief, there was something in the finality of his tone that made Scarlett satisfied with his response.

The mention of his past lover made Rhett think of hers. "So how does the honorable Ashley Wilkes fit into your new business venture, Scarlett? Have you made him a partner yet?" he asked mockingly.

"Oh, Rhett," she said with disgust, ignoring the sarcasm in his voice, and the implication. "He was so critical when I first told him of it, and actually had the gall to say he didn't think I could make a go of it!" indignant that anyone would think such a thing. "Then once he saw that I could, he asked if he could be a sort of consultant. He thought his knowledge of art and architecture made him an expert on the way buildings should be constructed. So I gave him a job working with the draftsmen, suggesting different elements a building should have. But Rhett, he was terrible! He was proposing all kinds of silly things like Corinthian columns and statues! Things that didn't make a lick of sense to the kinds of buildings we're constructing, and things that would have cost a fortune for my customer and very little profit for me! So I told him his services were best directed elsewhere and sent him back to the mill." Shaking her head, she took a sip of iced tea.

This was too much for Rhett. He looked at Scarlett, completely astonished. "You mean, you fired Ashley Wilkes?"

"Well, I didn't exactly fire him, I just…I just, oh, well, so I did fire him! But I had to, Rhett! He was going to make me lose money!"

Rhett roared with laughter. Scarlett actually fired Ashley Wilkes, the thorn in his side since the day he'd met Scarlett, and now she felt she had to justify her actions to him. Would she ever gain any insight into human nature?

Scarlett watched him, confused by his laughter, but enjoying seeing some of the old Rhett once again. Smiling, she laughed a little herself, then joined him in his uproar.

As their laughter died down, Rhett spoke. "It's ironic that you're in the construction business, Scarlett, because I'm getting ready to embark on a similar enterprise myself. But instead of constructing buildings, I'll be renovating them. And rather than businesses, these are homes."

He went on to tell her about meeting Jacques LeBlanc and his talent and love for restoring old buildings, and the housing situation in New Orleans. He left Charleston for New Orleans several days ago, and spent some time there to check Jacques' references, which were all complimentary, and take a look at some of the abandoned neighborhoods. He was very encouraged by what he saw, and actually purchased a row of houses for sale at rock bottom costs, due to the owners having settled elsewhere since the war. His plan was to fix them up and sell them at a much higher price. But he didn't want to use basic construction principles to fix them, creating cookie-cutter houses. He wanted to make them unique, jewels that would vastly improve the neighborhood, while keeping the houses' original Creole cottage charm. He would eventually buy up whole blocks and flip them for profit.

Scarlett's green eyes were opened wide. "Oh, Rhett, how exciting! And in New Orleans! Remember our honeymoon there, what a good time we had." She hadn't meant to bring up the past and sound hopeful, but it was too late. "Well, I guess you'll be in New Orleans for awhile," she said, her face falling."

"For a few months, at least," he confirmed. Then Rhett asked suddenly, "Scarlett, how are Wade and Ella? I meant to ask you about them before our capitalist minds took over. Are they well?"

"Oh!" Scarlett's eyes lit up again. "Ella is like a different child, Rhett! She's much more precocious, and she's actually a pleasure to talk to now. We've been doing so many things together, and she's really opened up to me and everyone else! Really, Rhett, she's a much improved little girl."

And you're a much improved mother, Rhett thought to himself.

"Wade is doing better than he had been, better than right after Bonnie and Melly…" her voice broke off. "But he's angry, Rhett. He loses his temper so quickly, and he was never like that before. I just don't know what to do for him." Scarlett's face was clearly full of concern for her boy.

Rhett felt terrible. Wade clearly needed a fatherly influence, and he'd been without one for a long time. Even a part-time father was better than none. He made up his mind quickly.

"Scarlett, I was planning on leaving this afternoon, but maybe I should stay for a few days. I do miss seeing the children, and it seems like I should spend some time with Wade."

"Oh, Rhett, that would be wonderful!" Scarlett said, then checked herself. "I mean, it would be so good for Wade. He does miss you, and so does Ella." She mustered up some courage and said, "We've been staying at Tara. I can get the servants to fix a room up for you. It would be easier for you, and you'd be closer…to the children. That is, unless you want to stay elsewhere."

"No, your suggestion is fine by me. To Tara it is."

Scarlett was overjoyed. Once she had Rhett at Tara, she could make him take her back! She could use every trick in the book, and one of them would work. She could…Her thoughts trailed off. She caught herself reverting back to her old scheming plans, plans that hadn't worked in the past. No, she thought, I'll not do that. She remembered again what Mammy said… "Let him come to you."


	6. Chapter 6

Train to New Orleans

Rhett reclined in his private car on a train from Charleston bound for New Orleans. He was gearing up to start his new enterprise, and looking forward to the challenge. It was so unlike blockade running, or any of the other ways he'd made money in the past, so while he didn't have the benefit of former experience to forecast the outcome, that was part of the excitement. Exploring the unknown was a different kind of thrill, and he was fervent to get started.

After returning from his visit to Tara, he met up with Jacques in Charleston to spell out the details of his plan, and hired him on as project foreman. Jacques had been chomping at the bit to get his hands on a job like this, and it was a dream come true for him. He was already bursting with ideas, and finishing his work at the hotel a few days early, he had taken off two days ago for New Orleans to get the wheels in motion – rounding up crews, inspecting the houses, and drawing out plans. Rhett would meet with him soon after he had arrived and settled.

With the whirlwind of the last few days consuming him, he hadn't had a chance to think about his time at Tara. Now with the hours until he'd arrive in New Orleans stretching long before him like the train's tracks, he slowly sipped a glass of whisky, and allowed himself the luxury of reflection.

When he left Charleston to visit Bonnie's grave, the last place he imagined he'd end up was Scarlett's childhood home, Tara. But it seemed that after his chance meeting with his wife, one thing had led to another and before he knew it, the carriage was rolling up to the plantation. Upon arriving there and seeing the white, sprawling house with hovering old oaks come into view, then entering the front doors, he had a strange feeling, a feeling like he had come home. But he had never gone there previously, much less lived there, so that feeling made no sense. And anyway, where the hell _was_ home?

He had to allow that Tara had a certain quality to it that was beckoning. It surely wasn't any monument to architectural design, as it looked as though it was built one room at a time, with no draftsman's plan whatsoever. He could envision Scarlett's father, Gerald O'Hara, giving directions to the builders in his bawling voice, "Put me bedroom upstairs, laddies, and build me kitchen 'round back nice and big." But possibly that was part of what made it so welcoming and cozy. There was nothing contrived, nothing fancy or showy at all about the place. It was all beautiful, but from the walls and floors, ceilings and windows, down to every stick of furniture, everything served a graceful purpose, with no unnecessary ornamentation. It was the antithesis of the House of Horrors, so much so that it was baffling to Rhett that Scarlett could love both abodes so well.

Scarlett marched about the house with such commanding familiarity and speed it amused Rhett to observe her. She rose early in the mornings and Rhett could hear her barking orders to the servants, Will Benteen, and any other poor unfortunates who were unlucky enough to be caught in her company during those daybreak hours. She flew up and down the stairs ignoring the handrails, her small feet on a determined mission to their next destination, and in and out of rooms to be sure everything was in order. As Rhett listened to her footsteps back and forth about the house, he imagined her as a child running merrily around Tara, a high-spirited, lighthearted little girl whose only ambition was to have a wonderful time playing, because the burden of running a large household had weighed on the shoulders of her mother and father. Since that responsibility had long ago shifted to her, the house seemed to have a touch of Scarlett's perfume, her care, her aura, in each room he entered.

Then, there was Scarlett herself. Rhett had slowly noticed a definite change in her, subtle though it was. She was just as headstrong and obstinate as ever, except now she carried a certain vulnerability, a sweetness that hadn't been present before. And it wasn't a forced, coquettish sweetness that he had seen her use as a pawn so many times, always when she had an end goal in mind, something she wanted to extract from people by playing the helpless southern belle. No, this was genuine, he could see, because she carried it with her most of the time, not just when she wanted something. But only with certain people, he realized. It didn't surface with sister Sue, Sue's children, Prissy, or most of the other servants. When she spoke with them, it was in her usual bullying way, no hint of sweet in her tone or expression. But with Mammy, Will, Pork, and her own children, Wade and Ella, it was definitely there. And Rhett also noticed it when Scarlett addressed him.

Rhett had been apprehensive about how Scarlett would handle his stay at Tara, but that fear was put to rest immediately. Not once during his short visit did he feel she would corner him and try to coax him into staying. She kept her chin held high, spoke to him courteously and respectfully, and let him go about his business with no questions as to how he would spend his time. Scarlett slept in the room she'd grown up in, and Rhett was given a guest room at the other end of the house. No one in the household raised eyebrows about their sleeping arrangements, nor questioned the reason for his being away for months. He was sure they wondered about these issues, but were discreet enough to pretend not to notice, and for that he was grateful.

After the family had gathered for dinner, everyone went their separate ways, either retiring to their rooms, lounging in the parlor, or tending to children. The first two nights, Rhett retired to his room early, preferring to be alone with a decanter of brandy and a glass, whereas Scarlett would sit outside on the front porch of Tara, away from the watchful view of others, and enjoy her libation. On the third night, she was getting ready to do the same, and upon walking halfway through the door, she was surprised by Rhett sitting there on the porch. He saw her looking uncertainly at him, and seemed to be ready to give him a quick goodnight and bolt upstairs. Before she could do so, he raised his arm in a welcoming motion, and said, "Pray join me, Scarlett, and bring your brandy with you."

Walking over towards him, she sat down, and they were quiet, just staring out at the view. And what a view it was, from their vantage point. The sky was clear dark blue, and the half moon shone with a shimmering light across the grounds. The oak trees dripped with Spanish moss, the magnolias were in full blossom, and the scent of jasmine and honeysuckle was strong. There was a stillness in the air, except for sounds of crickets and the faint strum of a banjo being played in the servants' quarters.

Looking at the beauty before him, Rhett said, "Scarlett, now I can truly understand why you fought so hard to keep Tara after the war. It's beautiful and picturesque, but also has a vitality to it that's stirring; it makes you want to be part of it."

Scarlett stared at him, a look of astonishment on her face. "That's exactly how I feel about Tara, Rhett, except I could never put it into words like you just did."

"Well, now, we always did think alike, didn't we?" he said, grinning slightly. Then he said, "Scarlett, I've spent a good deal of time with Wade these past few days, and though he's a difficult fellow to extract information from, I was able to get to the bottom of his sudden change in mood. Do you want to hear about it?"

"Of course, I do, Rhett! What has gotten into Wade? Why is he so angry? He's not at all like the boy he used to be."

"Well, that's just it, madam. He's not such a "boy" anymore. He's thirteen, and he's practically a young man. And it's not anger he's feeling, it's frustration."

"What do you mean? What has that got to do with his sudden mood swing?"

"I mean, my pet, that your son has discovered young ladies. And, he's feeling quite confused and frustrated by the way they make him feel all of a sudden."

Scarlett gasped. "Wade's already interested in little girls? Oh, no!"

"Oh, yes! Believe me, I know boys, I was one myself, remember, and I know exactly what he's going through. He thinks he's the only boy having these feelings." Rhett smiled wickedly, enjoying the effect this type of information was having on Scarlett.

"Well, Rhett, what did you tell him?"

"I told him his feelings were normal, that's it's something every boy goes through, and that his, er, "desires" will increase even more as he gets a little older. I also told him it means he's growing up and becoming a man. And with that, comes more responsibility."

Rhett paused, giving Scarlett a moment to digest it all, enjoying her incredulous expression.

"Responsibility?" Scarlett asked, wondering how Rhett directed her son.

"Yes, I explained to him that nice young ladies are creatures to be respected, and young men must abide by their wishes to remain chaste until marriage."

"Thank God you said that to him, Rhett!"

"Of course, Scarlett, I know that's the way you'd want your son brought up, and knowing the kind of boy Wade is, I realized that he should be counseled in that direction. Now, if he were more of a boy like I was, well, I would have directed him differently." He said, his mischievous smile in place, white teeth glowing in the darkness.

"Well, thank God he isn't like you were! I mean, well, you know what I mean."

Laughing, Rhett said, "I did suggest a solution, though, to cure his frustration, one that he could practice on his own. But, I have a sneaking suspicion he's already started practicing."

"What, Rhett? What can he do?" Scarlett asked, confused, having no idea of what he was speaking.

Laughing even louder, "My sweet, don't worry about it. Just know that Wade should be in much better moods from now on."

"Oh, Rhett, thank you for spending time with him and getting to the bottom of this. I could never have had that conversation with him. Thank God you were here, and handled it so well." She looked at him gratefully. Then she thought of Ella. "I know I'll have to have a conversation with Ella before she marries. I hope I handle it as well as you."

Interested, Rhett asked. "And what will you say to her?"

"I'm going to tell her that a husband's desires aren't something that a woman must just "endure", and that it's quite alright to enjoy intimacies in marriage," Scarlett said, then blushed. She certainly hadn't meant to blurt out a thing like that, and she was embarrassed having said it to Rhett.

Rhett was taken aback with this outburst from Scarlett. Without knowing it, she had actually admitted to Rhett she had enjoyed being intimate with him.

Rhett took a second to think further. He knew she had two other partners before him, Charles who was a boy she married for spite, from whom she was widowed after two months, and most of that time he had been away at war. And old man Kennedy, who he couldn't fathom any woman enjoying his touch.

He pressed this issue again, casually asking, "Well, will you advise Ella not to punish her husband by locking him out of her bedroom?" he asked snidely, for effect, but really wanting just to hear her response.

Again, Scarlett answered before thinking. "Huh! I punished myself when I did that." Her jaw dropped quickly and she blushed again and looked down. Slowly recovering from the embarrassment of her bold statement, she looked up at him and said quietly, "I regretted doing that almost immediately, Rhett."

This confirmed it for Rhett. She had enjoyed sharing his bed, even if she didn't admit it to herself when they were together. He took a large sip of his brandy. It shed a whole new light on things between him and Scarlett, even though they no longer lived together as husband and wife. It soothed his vanity tremendously that she'd actually wanted him that way. If only he'd known! It would have changed so much. But that was all in the past.

The sky was black now, but still clear, the stars shined like jewels, and the moon was bright. Its light reflected on Scarlett's face as he looked over at her, the pale greenness of her eyes looking at him longingly. He had a sudden urge to take her in his arms tightly and kiss her passionately, but gently. And usually, when he felt like doing something, he simply acted on it. But he didn't want Scarlett to misconstrue his actions, so instead, he said, "Scarlett, I've done many things in our marriage I'm not proud of. For instance, I wish I wouldn't have left the morning after I carried you up the stairs."

"I looked all over for you that day, Rhett. I wanted to be with you. And when you finally did come home, you said you had been to Belle's, and…"

"I know, I know," Rhett said. "I was a cad to do that. I was afraid to face you, but I shouldn't have left. And I am sorry for it, Scarlett."

Scarlett said, "I'm sorry that I didn't realize my true feelings for Ashley, that I didn't love him, before it was too late."

"And I'm sorry I caused your accident, falling down the stairs, and losing our baby," Rhett said hoarsely.

"Rhett, I've always wanted you to know, that I did call out for you when I was sick. I just don't think anyone heard me. But I really wanted you with me." She paused, thinking back on all of their miscues. "I know you told me that saying, 'I'm sorry' doesn't make things all better, and that it doesn't matter, but I wanted you to know how truly I am sorry about so many things."

"No, Scarlett, it does help knowing you're sorry, because then we can at least make peace with each other." Scarlett's apologies weren't selfish this time, not uttered in order to get him to stay. She honestly wanted him to know that she regretted hurting him. "I hope you can forgive me for all of my misdeeds, Scarlett."

He thought for a moment, then said, "You know, instead of rehashing some of the lower points of our marriage, why don't we just agree that we are each sorry for all of our misdoings, okay? That way, we'll have everything covered without going through the unpleasant task of having to list them all, and we can feel better about ourselves and each other. Is that a deal? Shall we call a truce?"

"Yes, a truce," Scarlett agreed happily. "Shall we shake on it?" she asked, offering her hand.

Rhett took her hand, but did not shake it. Instead, he held it and said, "Why don't we seal it with a kiss?" Before she could respond, he leaned over and lightly brushed his lips to hers. Then smiling, he said, "All done."

Looking at him with eyes that were almost pleading, she said, "Rhett, are you really leaving for New Orleans tomorrow?"

"Yes, Scarlett, I am. Well, actually, I'll be stopping off in Charleston first, then New Orleans."

"Well, I'm just curious…why? I know you told me about your renovation business, but you don't need the money."

"No, I don't need the money, you're right. And though I'll make a tidy profit from this venture, it'll be nothing compared to the millions I already have from running the blockade, and the subsequent investments I've been making. But this isn't about money at all, Scarlett. I need to do something in my life right now that's not only challenging, but that will give me a sense of pride which comes from doing something positive for someone or something other than myself. I know, I know, that's not like me at all. I'm almost embarrassed to admit it, but in a small way, it's similar to why I joined the army, even though it was a lost cause. Except this won't be a lost cause. I'll actually have a hand in improving a community. There's a certain satisfaction I expect to receive from that. It's not something that I'll believe will consume my time for very long, but if I can get it off the ground, then I can happily go back to my selfish, renegade ways. But for now, this is what I have to do." He studied her closely, "Do you understand me at all, Scarlett? Do you know where I'm coming from?"

"Actually, Rhett, I do," she said slowly, as if arriving at a realization resulting from his words. "I experience the same thing with my business. It feels, well, gratifying, I guess, to know I can help with the reconstruction of Atlanta."

"Well, I'm glad you understand and don't think less of me for it," he said, smiling.

They sat finishing their brandys, then said their goodnights.

The next morning, Pork was getting the carriage ready to take Rhett to the train station. Scarlett walked outside with him.

"Thanks again for Wade, Rhett. I'm so glad you were there for him." She was keeping her chin up, trying to keep a steady face.

Placing his hands lightly on her small waist, he said, "I'll write you when I get settled with my address, Scarlett. And if you have any problems with Wade, or anything, please let me know right away."

"I will, Rhett. Good bye," she said, almost whispering.

He kissed her lips softly, lingering just a bit longer than he had the last night.

"Good bye, Scarlett O'Hara of Tara," he winked, then got into the carriage and rode away.

So now he was headed to New Orleans, and starting a new chapter in his life. He was glad he spent time at Tara and with Scarlett, and that they had reached a degree of peace with each other. Now he could focus on his task at hand.

Except it was hard to concentrate when he kept seeing Scarlett's face, and how her green eyes had looked longingly at him in the moonlight.


	7. Chapter 7

New Orleans

The first thing Rhett did after settling in his hotel on Royal St., was to look for a more permanent place to live while he was in New Orleans. He wasn't looking for size or luxury but he did want something with character. He settled on a double shotgun house in the warehouse district for two reasons. First of all, he was going to buy a warehouse on Tchoupitoulas St., and this house would be walking distance to it, and secondly, the layout was perfect for him. Shotgun houses are narrow and rectangular in shape. The rooms, usually three to five of them, are in a row, one behind the other. If the front and inside doors are all open, and someone stands at the front door with a rifle and fires, the bullet would fly cleanly through to the back door, hitting no walls since the doors are all on the same side of the house. A double shotgun house simply means that there are two full separate units to the house, but not connecting. Rhett planned to make one side an office, and the other, his living quarters. This way, he could retreat at the end of a day to his separate space, totally closed off from work. The house he purchased was on the larger side, five rooms on each side, and he furnished it quickly with fittings from shops in the French Quarter.

Within two weeks, Rhett moved into the house and had the warehouse up and running, which was used to store building materials. Within a month, Jacques and his crews were already in full swing, restoring houses at a record pace. Rhett wanted to be there on site to witness the restorations. Jacques at first thought he was there to supervise, but that wasn't the case. Rhett could tell after just a day that Jacques knew exactly what he was doing, was a hard worker, and controlled his crew easily. He would ask Rhett for his approval on different ideas. "Hey Rhett, I'm going to use bead board instead of wainscoting, because it's cheaper, but has the same effect, okay?" Or, "Hey Rhett, we're going to paint the ceilings a different hue from the walls, because that makes the ceilings seem higher. You approve?" But Rhett told him that he, not himself, was the expert, and that's why he was foreman, and he trusted his good judgment.

The reason Rhett was there everyday was that he actually enjoyed watching the work. He marveled at the fast pace the houses were transformed, and loved to see them improve with each stage of enhancement. And he wanted to have a hand in it, so he asked the crew to give him quick instructions, and he himself grabbed a hammer, saw, wrench, turnscrew, paintbrush, or whatever the current job called for, and went to work. He had never done manual labor like this, and was surprised to find that he actually enjoyed working with his hands. It gratified him when he could take a step back and see the fruits of his labor.

Working everyday in the heat, he quickly shed off the extra weight he had gained after Bonnie's death. His muscles regained their former mass, his waist narrowed, and his skin darkened from the sun. In the evenings, he went back to the house, bathed, relaxed with a glass of brandy, then went to bed early only to rise in the morning's wee hours to start again. With this routine, drinking much less than he had been, exercising, getting a fair amount of sun, and enjoying his work tremendously, he began to feel much better than he first felt after fleeing Atlanta and the House of Horrors.

One afternoon as Rhett was sitting down to lunch at Antoine's with Jacques, having the day off because a torrential rainstorm halted the crew, Jacques noticed the change in Rhett, not just physically, but mentally. He seemed lighter, in much better spirits than when they had first met in Charleston. Still, he detected something was remiss with Rhett, in the way his mind drifted at times from their conversation.

"Hey Rhett, have you heard from Scarlett lately?"

Rhett was by now used to Jacques' blunt questions that seemed to come from nowhere, but this had taken him a little off guard. He hadn't mentioned Scarlett in weeks, not since first coming to New Orleans and filling him in on his quick visit to Tara. But she had definitely been on his mind today, since he was free from work and had the leisure to let his mind wander

"No, I haven't heard from her, not since I wrote her with my address in case of an emergency."

"So the two of you only communicate through emergencies?"

Rhett sighed. "Jacques, what's the use? She has her work and I have mine. As I'm sure I told you, it's over between us. I'm just pleased that we were able to reach an agreeable peace with each other."

"Uh, huh," Jacques said. "So, the divorce is still on, I take it?"

"Of course."

"So, you've had papers drawn up?"

Damn, this man was unrelenting! Normally if a person pried as Jacques was doing, he told him in no uncertain terms to mind his own business. But for some reason, he felt a need to justify his actions, or lack of action. "No, I meant to bring it up to her, just never found the right moment. As it stands now, I can't bother about it. I'm so busy over here."

Interesting, Jacques thought. First, he said he couldn't divorce Scarlett because he was afraid he couldn't be civil to her, then it was because he couldn't find the right time, and now he's too busy. Suddenly, an idea came to him.

He cleared his throat. "So, she's in the construction business too, you told me right? And it's a business that's somewhat new to her?"

"Yes, she owned and ran a sawmill, but hasn't involved herself in construction until she started the contracting company."

"Hmmm," Jacques said, as though deep in thought. "She could really learn a lot hanging around our job sites for a couple of weeks. They're a perfect place to study and absorb the ins and outs of renovation principles, which I'm sure many would apply to new construction as well. It's a shame she's not here to do that."

Rhett seemed not to be paying attention to Jacques' words as he paid the cheque and got up. But then as they walked out to the street, Rhett said, "You wouldn't think that a woman hanging around your crew would be too much of a distraction?"

"Not if I threatened the guys by telling them to keep their eyes and hands to themselves, or suffer the iron fists of Rhett Butler," Jacques said, grinning widely.

Rhett shrugged. "I was just asking hypothetically. I don't really think it's feasible for Scarlett to come to New Orleans. There are too many issues at stake."

"Yeah, you're probably right. She's most likely too busy with her life over there anyway. Oh, well, forget I ever brought it up."

The downpour had slackened to a drizzle as they parted, both dodging raindrops their separate ways home. Jacques smiled and mentally patted himself on the back as he walked to his French Quarter home. With any luck, Rhett would fetch his wife here within the week.


	8. Chapter 8

New Orleans

Scarlett's train was arriving soon, and Rhett contemplated for the twentieth time if he had done the right thing in inviting her to New Orleans. His telegram warned that this was strictly an opportunity for her to learn more about renovation and restoration, which would help her in her own business, and the days would be long and exhausting, the evenings uneventful, and the accommodations tight. But she had written back to say that she would love to learn more about the trade, she'd found a reliable manager to take over for her while she was gone, and that hard work and long hours hadn't bothered her in the past. It was also good timing, as Suellen was taking an extended trip to Aunt Pitty's with her children, and Wade and Ella, missing Atlanta, longed to go with her. But he still wasn't sure if he'd been too hasty with his invitation, wondering how they'd fare being around each other for that long a time.

His apprehension fell away the moment he saw her, and the corner of his mouth rose as she walked up to him in high spirits, bearing dimples. He felt a surprise rush as he kissed her cheek and took her bags. "Hello, Scarlett O'Hara, current heartbreaking record holder in the South," he drawled, black eyes twinkling.

She smiled up to him. "It's so good to see you, Rhett."

A short time later, the carriage rolled up to the shotgun. Rhett had moved a bed and his personal things into the office side of the house, where he would sleep, so Scarlett could stay in the other, fully furnished side.

"Oh, it's darling, Rhett! It reminds me of a dollhouse."

"A dollhouse?" he said laughing. "Well, it probably does look like a dollhouse compared to Tara and that monstrosity in Atlanta you built."

"Fiddle dee dee! Why do you always have to call it a monstrosity? I designed every square inch of that house."

"My point exactly, pet. Well, perhaps your taste will improve when you see how masterful Jacques is with my houses."

"Oh, I can't wait to meet Jacques. You always speak so fondly of him."

"Well, you'll get your opportunity tonight. He's having a party at his place with his crew, so you can get to know them all, and they you. You're going to be spending a great deal of time with them the next couple of weeks."

"A party? Oh, how wonderful! I haven't been to a party since…well, not in such a long time, and I'm just bursting for one. Do you think there will be dancing?" she asked, hopefully.

He chuckled. "I doubt it, since his crew is all men. This won't be the kind of party you're used to Scarlett. These aren't like the new money Atlanta bunch we used to entertain and tolerate all the time during our years of debauchery. These are very down to earth people, who haven't an ounce of pretension or a drop of bull. What you see is what you get with them. Not the kind of people you're used to hobnobbing with as of late, or me either, for that matter."

"Well, I don't care! I've had it with those Atlanta folk anyway. When it came down to it, none of them were real friends to me. They just wanted to put on airs and show off their pretty clothes, gaudy jewelry and expensive carriages, and…now why are you laughing?"

"Oh, you just reminded me of someone I used to know. Come on," he said, helping her out of the carriage. "I'll show you your rooms, madam."

Jacques lived in a small French Quarter house with his roommate, Pierre. He'd purchased it a year ago, for almost nothing, since the price was based on it being nearly uninhabitable due to years of neglect and decay. But with his renovation skills, he was able to turn it into one of the most stylish houses in the neighborhood, and he did it on a shoestring budget. It was a labor of love, restoring the wood floors until they gleamed, improving the walls with fresh sheetrock, laying new shingles on the roof, painting, hammering, sanding, caulking, polishing, until the whole place was absolutely breathtaking. He chose rich golds, burgundies, greens and deep purples as the walls' color palette, and still managed to make each room flow into the other. Everyone who entered the house and had seen it in its decrepit state was amazed at the miraculous transformation. Even the furniture, which he bought second hand chosen for the charm of its bones, was repaired and re-stained and looked stylish and new. He'd torn down the wall between his good sized parlor and sitting room, making it an ideal for space for parties. But for all the house's splendor, it had a cozy, comfortable feeling to it, which was a trademark present in all his renovation work.

Jacques had been more than curious to meet Scarlett, the estranged wife of the brooding Rhett Butler. He expected her to be an attractive woman, as the Rhett he'd seen in Charleston seemed to favor quite a few of them. And, he had to admit, Rhett was no slouch himself. But Scarlett was a working woman, running a construction business, for heaven's sake, so he figured she'd be a little on the industrial side, simply dressed, sturdily built.

But when she glided into his house with Rhett, oh my God, he had never seen anything so pretty, charming, vivacious, flirtatious in his life! She was the epitome of femininity,

with skirts-a-swinging, dimples-a-flashing, eyelashes-a-fluttering, and so young! But as Jacques studied her awhile longer, he could tell that beneath the surface was a real hellcat who wouldn't hesitate to use her claws. If there was something she wanted, he wouldn't want to be the one standing in her way. But she was a perfect match for Rhett.

As she was introduced to the construction crew, they were all polite and respectful, ever mindful of Rhett's eagle eyed gaze, waiting in line to bend over her hand, but they struggled to keep their jaws from dropping at the pretty, charming Mrs. Butler. They had never met anything quite like her. Now, New Orleans had more than their fare share of beauties. The city was crawling with Creole ladies with dark eyes, lithesome bodies, mysterious, with a haunting air about them. But here was a southern belle in the true sense of the word. From her sugary sweet drawl, to her radiant green eyes, to her swishing skirts, and her dainty gestures, they were under her spell in no time. They catered to her needs, inquiring to her comfort, bringing her cool drinks, and even holding her glass when she wasn't taking a sip.

"My, my," Jacques said to Rhett, who was amusedly watching the whole scene. "I don't know how you could have stayed away from her for so long, Rhett. She's the life of this party, that's for sure. Damn, she could have any man she wanted, I'd bet. She probably has men flocking all over her in Atlanta. Oh, sorry, I didn't mean…"

"Yes, you did mean. Don't think I'm not onto you by now."

Jacques gave him a confused look, but Rhett was no fool.

The crew had an early call the next morning, so they gradually said their goodnights and trickled out. Just as the last one thanked his hosts and left, Pierre said, "Are you ready for the REAL party now? The night is young, y'all!"

A few moments later, a different bunch dropped in, friends of Jacques and Pierre, and what a lively bunch they were. It was getting late, but they seemed to have just started their night of revelry. They brought food and champagne, and made themselves easily at home. Then one of them spotted Scarlett.

"And just what do we have here? Is this that pretty little present you said was coming all the way from Georgia, Jacques?" a man named Phillip exclaimed.

"Oh, this is indeed Mrs. Scarlett Butler, whose come to renovate with Jacques and her husband Rhett, boys," Pierre explained, introducing both Rhett and Scarlett to all of them at the same time.

They said their hellos and gathered around Scarlett in awe. She was like a doll to them, so pretty, with her peaches and cream complexion and green, green eyes. They fell in love with her instantly, and fussed over her to no end. They were amazed by her flouncy gown, her tiny waist, which they determined could be completely encircled with only three of their hands, her small feet and their beautiful shoes, that she had allowed removed and held up to the light for closer inspection of their fine, expensive craftsmanship. But most of all, they loved her southern belle charm, and enjoyed hearing her talk with her sweet drawl, her coquettish expressions, and her sashaying walk.

"Miss Scarlett," Phillip began in a deep drawl, addressing her in the way that they all had started to. "When you head over to your construction sites in Atlanta, do you bring a pretty pink parasol with you?" They laughed, and she laughed with them.

"Oh, Miss Scarlett!" Pierre exclaimed gleefully. "Show us how you walk around that little old plantation of yours!"

Scarlett was enjoying being the center of attention. It was like she was the belle of the barbecue at Twelve Oaks again, and having an audience, she was eager to please them. She knew what they wanted, so she let them take a hand to assist her out of her chair, and, gave them an extremely exaggerated walk, swinging her shoulders and her skirts as she lowered her chin in mock bashfulness, smiling sweetly, and batting her eyes over her fan. Then they exploded with laughter, rip roaring laughter, actually falling on the floor, rolling over, rubbing their aching bellies, and slapping the floor with their palms.

They fussed over her and weighted on her hand and foot, constantly bringing her little plates of food. And oh, the food! Oyster patties, tiny crawfish pies, shrimp cocktail, crabmeat au gratin…there seemed to be an endless supply of it. "Try this, sweetie, I think you'll like it" and "This is something I whipped up just this evening, Miss Scarlett. Do have a bite!" She was happy to oblige. It brought back delicious memories of her honeymoon with Rhett.

As the night stretched on, Rhett emerged from the front porch where he'd been sitting with Jacques, enjoying cigars and discussing business, and finally went over to collect his wife. "Sorry to take her from you, boys, but we have an early day tomorrow and we both need a least a few hours of sleep."

They expressed their disappointment at her leaving with pouts, stamping of feet, and lots of "aw shucks!", but begged her not to be a stranger and to let Jacques and Pierre know when she was ready to have another party, and they'd be right over with more food and champagne.

Walking Scarlett and Rhett out to the porch, Jacques said, "See you two lovebirds bright and early in the mornin'!" as Rhett shot him a parting glare.

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The next morning, Scarlett wore a simple cotton dress and straw hat for her day at the job site. She watched intently as the crew went about their work. They were mindful of her presence, and actually were more productive than usual, eager to impress her with their speedy workmanship. Occasionally, they walked over to her to explain the jobs they were doing. "You see, Mrs. Butler, we're dressing up the walls with a little crown molding for added detail, but not too wide, because the ceilings ain't that high, and we don't want them to look lower than they are." "Come see how we're staining the doors, Mrs. Butler. We're using long strokes with a thin coat of stain, then letting it dry, then applying two more, because we don't want to force the color with one thick coat; it just wouldn't look right." Scarlett was amazed at their work, and how much she was learning just by observing. She took no written notes, because she didn't need to. Each skill she learned was permanently filed in an area of her brain that she'd access when the need arose.

Out of the corner of an eye, Scarlett saw Rhett as he worked, and it was hard to tear her eye away from him. Often, he removed his shirt due to the heat, and she noticed how his body had regained its magnificent form.

Food was brought to the site for lunch. At the end of the workday, Rhett went back the warehouse with Jacques, as they discussed the next day's work plan over a quick supper they'd pick up from a café nearby, then made his way home shortly after. Scarlett went directly home after the day's work, and ate her dinner alone at the shotgun from a restaurant that brought food to her, as arranged by Rhett, then bathed and climbed thankfully into bed. Scarlett fell easily into this routine after just a couple of days.

After Scarlett was in New Orleans a week, the crew was rewarded with a day off as a bonus for their hard work, since they were ahead of schedule. Rhett casually suggested to Scarlett that they have an early supper, then take a walk by the river afterwards.

It was a warm, balmy night, but with their light summer clothing, they felt refreshed in the night's light breeze. As they slowly strolled by the river with Scarlett holding onto Rhett's offered arm, they reflected on their lives before the war, and how different things were now.

"I used to think money was everything back then," Scarlett remembered. "But it's not so important now."

"And why do you think that is, my dear?" Rhett questioned smiling. "Do you think it has something to do with the fact that you have your money now, and you no longer need to fight for it?"

"But Rhett, I did so many things in the past because I did need the money, things that I'm not so proud of."

"But, why aren't you proud of what you did, Scarlett? You saved yourself, Tara, and everyone at Tara because of it, and made a nice little nest egg for yourself and your children."

"Well, I didn't have to…"

"You didn't have to do what? Shoot the Yankee and clean out his wallet? Steal old Frank Kennedy away from your sister so you could pay the taxes on Tara? Buy the sawmill from under Frank's nose and run it the way you did, cheating all of your competitors and putting them out of business? Let me ask you something…if you had to do it all over again, would you do the same? If you were in the same situation, yes you would. As it stands now, you don't have to do it, because you're very well off, with a little help from me of course. But I'd wager if you hadn't married me and my millions, you'd still be sitting pretty. You forget, my pet, that I know you, down to your bones. Better than you know yourself, that's certain. It's easy to know you because you're so much like me. I merely have to look within myself to figure you out. We'll do whatever it takes to forward our own causes, with little regard for anyone or anything standing in our way. That's why we have such bad reputations with people like the old guard and uptight Charleston society. They'd rather we give up and live in the past like they do, instead of having taken the chances we needed to in order to thrive and flourish."

"But," Scarlett ventured, "Are we really as bad as all that?"

"What's bad about being survivors? Please don't develop a conscience now, Scarlett. It's too late for that. Your deeds are already done."

"Oh, Rhett, you're not making me feel any better," she said, disappointedly.

Rhett laughed. "Well, okay then, let me see if I can put your mind at ease a little, though I don't know where all this sudden concern about your character is coming from." He looked at her. "You're a much better mother than you were. I had time to observe you at Tara, and I could see that you spent more time interacting with your children and actually enjoyed it. And, I was touched by your happiness over the improvement of Ella, and your concern about Wade."

"Were you?" she said. She honestly hadn't known Rhett was observing her, but was pleased that he did. "I really do enjoy them more, Rhett, and they've rewarded me with so much in return."

"Yes, it's nice how that works out, isn't it? And I noticed another thing. You're a little softer around the edges, sweet even, but only with certain people."

"I am?" Scarlett asked, thinking more about it. "You know, that's true. And you're not the first to tell me that. Mammy mentioned that to me not long ago. She said I'm nicer to people I love. But everyone else, she said, I bully."

Laughing again, Rhett said, "Mammy's always been a smart old broad, and she may be the only other person, besides me, who reads you like a book."

"You've changed a little too, Rhett," Scarlett said quietly.

"Yes, I have, Scarlett. I'm the same old selfish rascal as I always was, but having reached my advanced age, I have an occasional need to step out of my skin and do some good in the world. That's what brought me to New Orleans with this project of improving a community. Do you think even just a couple of years ago I would be doing this? That I would have chosen for a friend an honest man like Jacques, who works his fingers to the bone, not so much for money, but because his work is his passion? I could never understand that in the past. I couldn't grasp why anyone would work so hard for any other reason than to make tons of money. But, I guess it's true what they say, 'with age comes wisdom', unless what I have is simply a latent case of naivety and not wisdom at all."

Laughing a little, Scarlett said "I sincerely doubt that, Rhett. I've always felt so safe with you, because you were so strong and smart enough to take care of us both."

Rhett looked at her. "I never really thought you needed taking care of, Scarlett, but I wanted to do it irregardless. I loved taking care of you," he said, placing a protective hand lightly behind her waist. In response, Scarlett leaned into him, as they slowly made their way back down the river to the carriage.

During the ride back to the house, they said little, taking in the night air and the beauty of the city. Rhett took Scarlett's hand in both of his absently, and Scarlett placed her other hand on top of his. It had just seemed like the natural thing to do, and as they arrived home, Rhett kept her hand in his as he helped her out of the carriage. Now at their respective doors, Rhett looked over at Scarlett. Her green eyes held the same longing look as they had at Tara, except tonight the look was even stronger. Stepping towards her and gently taking her face in his hands, he softly kissed her lips then said goodnight.

Alone in his room, Rhett undressed and slid under the covers, closing his eyes. He hoped sleep would come soon, because he knew without a doubt, that his dreams would be of Scarlett.


	9. Chapter 9

New Orleans

Renovations were fully complete on a row of houses, and over the past several weeks, Rhett had been planning a public viewing, with a catered reception to follow for the city's most influential citizens. This was to direct attention to the "new" community, and to entice fresh buyers to the neighborhood. It was to be held on Saturday, with the home viewing in late afternoon while there was still plenty of sunlight, and the reception immediately afterwards in a hall on Decatur St. Invitations had been sent out to the mayor and his wife, local business owners, prominent doctors, lawyers, society leaders, newspaper reporters, and even the governor of Louisiana. The houses were beautifully furnished, along with paintings for the walls, fresh flowers in vases, and fully landscaped, so the would-be buyers could see the properties' full potential.

On that Saturday morning, Scarlett stood admiring the beautiful gown that Pierre, who was a ladies' clothing designer, helped her pick out to wear that evening. He hadn't the time to design a custom made gown, but brought her to a shop of his recommendation, and with his exquisite taste and knowledge of fabrics and how they hang on a woman's form, selected a dress of the most breathtaking shade of turquoise. The color, he said, would bring out her eyes just well as emerald green; the bluish tones would blend strikingly with her dark hair and magnolia skin. The dress was made almost entirely of satin and clung to her body's graceful hourglass like a glove, with a skirt that began at her knees and flared to the floor. It had a sweetheart neckline and small cap sleeves trimmed in crystals. There was a small bustle, and the back bow was made up of black organza. The dyed black kid gloves and evening shoes she'd bought complemented the dress perfectly.

She hoped Rhett would admire how she looked, and believed he would. He liked to see women in beautiful designs such as this, and she knew she would look very fetching tonight. But more than anything, she wished this would be the night Rhett would finally come back to her.

Scarlett sat down on her bed, slightly shaking her head. What was it that was holding him back? He'd certainly acted as though he wanted her, even to the point of being affectionate at times, and she thought she could detect an occasional glimmer of love in his eyes. He'd invited her to New Orleans, for goodness sakes, and treated her sweetly, save for his occasional teasing and mocking, but that was just part of the old Rhett, and she actually welcomed those harmless gestures. They were living right next door to each other in the same house, but retired to separate rooms at the end of the day. She hadn't once brought up the idea of them giving their marriage another try, nor proclaimed her love for him, remembering Mammy's words about letting him come to her. But it was getting increasingly difficult, with Rhett being so close at hand, to hold her loving feelings away from him.

Once she'd finally realized her love the day of Melanie's death, she knew it was true, it was real, a love that would never go away. In fact, it deepened with each day, starting when Rhett had left her and he was no longer a daily presence in her life. She'd reflected back on their tender moments together when they were newly married. She remembered now, how his eyes would be on her, like a cat at a mouse hole, but he'd only been trying to see within her, looking for love in her eyes, but never finding it. It was heartbreaking to know she'd caused him so much hurt. Now she knew how much he must have loved her, but wouldn't admit it, fearing she'd use his love against him. Oh, how her love for him swelled within her! Some mornings at Tara she'd awaken and wonder how she'd make it through the day, missing him dreadfully, feeling the pain of his absence. Still, she had forced herself to be brave and move on with life, for her own sake as well as her children's. She refused to chase him, find him, throw herself at his feet, and beg him to take her back, knowing that tactic wouldn't work with Rhett. But how frustrating it was to just sit back and wait for him to come around to her!

She sighed as she went to the window and looked out. It was a clear, sunny day, thankfully, for their festivities later on. Tomorrow was the day she had originally planned to leave New Orleans to go back to Tara, but Rhett hadn't brought up her leaving, and actually had hinted around about plans for the following week. Therefore, she was relatively sure she'd be staying a week or so more. Wade and Ella weren't due back to Tara for two more weeks, and she received telegrams every few days from Grant Whitley, her manager at her construction company, filling her in on their progress and letting her know everything over there was running smoothly. But even extending her visit, she still didn't have much time to get Rhett back.

"No matter," she thought, lifting her chin, her eternal optimism making a welcome appearance. "I'll get him back somehow, and when I do leave New Orleans, it'll be with Rhett."

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The home viewing was a tremendous success. A large crowd turned out as a result of the buzz around town, and New Orleanians were curious to see the houses they'd heard were renovated in such an interesting, striking way, making the city they loved dearly even more beautiful and intriguing than it already was. Several who'd viewed the houses expressed interest in purchasing, and they signed papers of good faith, which were on hand at the showing, intending to come to the warehouse next week, where an office was set up, to make their home purchases final. They actually had more papers signed than were houses, and Rhett and Jacques were confident that they'd all be sold within a week.

Later at the reception, Rhett and Scarlett stood by to welcome their guests. Just about everyone on their invitation list attended, including Mayor Wiltz and his wife Mildred. They both congratulated Rhett on the success of his venture, and thanked him for his contribution to the city. Many of the prominent citizens were eager to meet the man in charge of restoring a beloved part of their hometown, and made their way over in droves to shake hands with Rhett Butler. Rhett thanked them for coming, but made sure to introduce Jacques as his project foreman, and creative brain behind the renovations.

Although busy entertaining, Rhett frequently stole glances towards Scarlett, watching her as she talked and laughed with the other guests. She was certainly beautiful tonight. And it wasn't the gorgeous turquoise dress and the way it clung to her figure, or her striking eyes, nor her raven hair, not that he hadn't noticed and admired all of those things about her. It was just a feeling of having her here with him, to share this night with him, which was a culmination of his hard work of the past few months. He couldn't imagine her not being by his side. And seeing her looking as she did, enjoying herself tremendously on this wonderful night gave him a romantic feeling, and it made her more alluring than ever. She peeked his way just as he was having that feeling, and seeing her, he winked and smiled. The corners of her lips slowly smiled back and held his eyes for a few seconds longer, until the governor and his wife interrupted their moment.

"Rhett Butler, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance, sir," Governor Kellog said shaking his hand, and introduced his wife Mary Ellen to Rhett. "And this must be your charming wife, I presume?" Rhett confirmed that it was, and introduced Scarlett to the Governor and Mrs. Kellogg.

"You are a lovely couple, the two of you," Mrs. Kellogg said. "I've admired Mrs. Butler's dress from afar, and I've been observing you both throughout the night. It's obvious to tell you're very much in love. And for that, you're a lucky pair."

Scarlett froze, hardly knowing how to reply to that comment, but Rhett covered easily. "Thank you, Mrs. Kellogg, and we appreciate you coming all the way from Baton Rouge to pay us such a fine compliment. By the way, have you met Jacques LeBlanc? He's the heart and soul of this renovation project."

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Later that night after the reception, Jacques was having a small party at his house for the crew. It was to be a relaxed celebration, just a time for everyone to be themselves and toast to the hard work of all involved. Even though they'd just come back from a fully catered affair, there were trays and trays of delectable food, as was commonplace for any party at Jacques', and an infinite supply of chilled champagne.

As the night wore on, the crew was feeling a little tipsy, and after the first toast was made, it seemed like everyone wanted to make a toast of his own. "To shotgun houses…may they forever live in this city because of the work we did to them!" "Here's to many more renovations…and prosperous citizens with plenty of money to pay for them!" "To champagne!" "To oyster patties!" "To Miss Scarlett, the belle of New Orleans!"

"To Scarlett and Rhett!" Jacques shouted merrily, holding up his glass. "To Scarlett and Rhett!" the crowd responded enthusiastically, "Cheers!" as they took another sip of champagne.

"Miss Scarlett, you're not leaving us anytime soon, are you sugar?" Pierre asked worriedly. "Please don't say you're going back to Georgia already. You know that would tear my little ole heart right up!"

Scarlett looked at Rhett. He hadn't exactly confirmed the idea of her staying past tomorrow, but had hinted at times that she should stay for another week. Rhett saw the quizzical look on her face as she smiled cajolingly at him, and felt a sudden, strange tightness in his chest. Without hesitating, he said coolly, "My dear, when you choose to leave is of no importance to me. I'm certainly not holding you here. You can leave New Orleans whenever you want."

Rhett was sorry immediately, and didn't know why he'd said something like that. The conversation around them died down, and no one could contain their looks of surprise from Rhett's callous statement. For a split second, a slight degree of shock and hurt showed on Scarlett's face, but she quickly recovered and lifted her chin. "Of course I can." Standing up and flashing her dimples, she said, "Pierre, would you be a darling and take me home? I just realized I haven't done a lick of packing, and I don't believe Rhett's ready to leave the party just yet."

"Miss Scarlett, I'd be much obliged to have the honor of escorting you safely home," Pierre said, and placing Scarlett's wrap around her shoulders, threw Rhett a piercing glare as they exited the house.

The rest of the party drifted over to another room. They were there to have fun, not be part of Rhett's obviously black mood. Rhett stayed where he was.

Jacques stomped his feet to the floor as he stood up angrily. "Hey Rhett, what the shit is wrong with you?" he demanded. "Why did you have to say that to her, and why are you so hell bent on ruining your life?"

"Jacques, I'll thank you for once to mind your own goddamned business."

"No, don't thank me, because I don't intend to. It seems like you need your business minded," he said evenly. "So you're gonna let her leave tomorrow? You're just gonna hang up your fiddle? Live apart from her and see her once in awhile, then send her back home while you live your life alone in misery? What are you gonna do when she's gone? Go back to being a whoremonger?"

Rhett gritted his teeth. "How many times do I have to tell you? It's all over with us! My love has worn out! Sure, I loved her as much as a man can love a woman, for years! But she's worn me out! Do you know what I've been through with this woman? Do you know what she does to a man? You should have known her last husband…she practically ran him into the ground!"

"But you aren't him, and you wouldn't allow her to do that to you. He was obviously no match for a woman like Scarlett. You said she only married him for convenience to save her plantation."

"Yes, and she married me for my money, so what's the difference?"

"Hey, I don't know everything that the two of you went through, and I know you've had a rough time of it. But you said you've forgiven each other, and look at how things are now! When she's around you're a different man! You watch her like a hawk, your face lights up if she so much as throws you a side glance, and you dote on her every word…You do love her, admit it! Man, any fool can see it!"

Ignoring his last words, Rhett said, "I can't go back to her and wind up like I was. You saw me in Charleston. Did you see the kind of wreck I was?"

"Yeah, because you had just lost your little girl and your guilt…"

"You goddamned, meddling bastard!" Rhett's voice thundered as he stood up furiously, throwing his chair behind him. "Don't bring Bonnie into this, damn you! Don't ever mention her to me again, do you understand?!"

Jacques sat back down slowly, but still kept his eyes focused on Rhett. So he had finally gotten the cool, controlled Rhett Butler to unleash his temper. He watched Rhett snatch up his coat and hat and head to the door. Then he said quietly, "Hey Rhett, who is it you're really angry at? Think about it a minute. You have to let yourself off the hook some time."

Rhett turned and glowered at him, incensed. "What?!"

Jacques folded his arms. "That's all I'm sayin'."

Turning again and bolting towards the door, Rhett left, slamming the door almost off its hinges. A short time later, Pierre walked in.

"What in the world is the matter with Rhett? I just saw him tearing down the street, grumbling about people minding their own business, and he didn't even look up to tell me goodbye!"

"He'll be alright," Jacques sighed, pouring a shot of whisky. "He's just gearing up to have a conversation with himself that's long overdue."

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Outside, Rhett stormed onward towards Jackson Square, forgoing his carriage, feeling the need to walk. He shook his head angrily, as Jacques' words came back to him. What right did that bastard have to intrude into his personal life? He'd never asked his opinion, but the man seemed to think he had all the answers, and didn't hesitate to offer his unsolicited advice. Damn him!

Rhett came to a bench in front of the St. Louis Cathedral, and sat down, burying his face in his hands. Slowly, his anger started to fade, and his thoughts became more coherent. He took a deep breath, and remembered what Jacques said about his feelings for Scarlett.

Well, maybe he did still love her, a little. Maybe the flame he'd carried with him over all those years still flickered slightly. Hell, maybe it did more than flicker. Maybe it burned. Yes, it did burn. His love for her hadn't worn out as he'd said that day he left her. _He_ was worn out. Worn out from years of Scarlett's rejection, and certainly worn out over Bonnie's death. He had been angry at her, for so many things, and had basically blamed everything on her, but later came to realize that some of the fault was his.

He had known when he married her that she didn't love him, or at least thought she didn't, and he was fool enough to think he could change her. And, he had never admitted his love for her. Perhaps if he had, she would have realized her love for him sooner. It had been Melanie in her deathbed who told Scarlett of his love, and that piece of information had indeed helped her acknowledge that she loved him.

And then there was the whole Ashley fiasco. He knew that once Scarlett understood Ashley for what he was, she would no longer love him. Why didn't he make her realize this? And the night he carried her up the stairs, he had been a coward the next morning. He should have gone with his instincts, and realized that Scarlett had actually enjoyed their passionate interlude. Instead, he fled to Belle's.

But something was holding him back now, holding him away from Scarlett. What? He looked up at the church in front of him. He'd never been a religious man, but something about the cathedral's serene presence made him feel more at peace. He thought about Jacques' last words. Something to the effect of who he was really angry at and letting himself off the hook.

Suddenly Bonnie came to mind. His precious baby girl, who was taken away from him so abruptly in a terrible accident. And it was an accident. But, he thought, an accident that could have been prevented. As he'd done thousands of times before, he tortured himself with the memory of her perched proudly upon her pony, begging him to raise the bar, and allowing her to convince him that she was capable of making the jump.

So he had raised the bar.

Why? Why had he done such a foolish thing? He should have refused her request, no matter how much she pleaded, and no matter how much she had him wrapped around her little finger. He had spoiled her, he knew, and she was dead because of it.

His face went back into his hands as he shook his head. He loved her so completely, so unconditionally. All he'd wanted to do was make her happy, so he indulged her every whim. But that in itself isn't a cause to death, he slowly started to realize. How often do fathers spoil their daughters? They did it all the time. And usually, spoiling and mistakes in judgment don't lead to tragedy. "You have to let yourself off the hook sometime," were Jacques' actual words.

He had to let himself off the hook for Bonnie's death. He knew that the anger he felt inside was towards himself. He had thrown it at Scarlett tonight, but his anger and guilt were what was holding him back from finding happiness with her. He hadn't allowed himself to be happy, because he didn't think he deserved it, consumed with guilt that he was.

Jacques had told him months ago that forgiveness was a choice. And it was true, because he had chosen to forgive Scarlett for many things, and she had chosen to forgive him. So now, he had to make the decision to forgive himself. He had to stop blaming himself for a bad judgment call. Holding onto the guilt would not bring Bonnie back. She was gone, but while she lived, he knew she had loved him. And Scarlett. She would have wanted her parents to be happy together.

Drained from his thoughts and revelations, he got up and started walking around the Square. Scarlett once again became the focus of his concentration. He had literally been around the world since he was twenty, met women in many cities, states, and countries, and no woman affected him the way Scarlett had. Now he knew his love for her was stronger than ever. The time they spent being separated had actually done them both good. Scarlett had changed in very subtle, but desirable ways, and now he burned for her.

Then suddenly he stopped walking, as a question intruded his thoughts. Did she still love him? He believed she did, but he wasn't sure. What if she just thought she loved him, like she thought she loved Ashley Wilkes all of those years? He wasn't worried about Ashley, assured that he no longer held the key to Scarlett's heart. But was she just wanting something she couldn't have by wanting her husband's love after he'd taken it away? His mind was playing tricks on him now. Where before, he'd been confident of her love since he'd left Atlanta, now his mind was doubting. She hadn't said she loved him since then, hadn't begged for him to come back, and he was grateful for that at first. But now it would have been so gratifying to hear. He'd relish that proclamation she'd made when he left her. But she hadn't reaffirmed her love.

Well, now he needed her, hungered for her, he thought, as he made his way back to his carriage, his steps quickening in his desire to get back to the house. He had promised himself after Bonnie died that he wouldn't risk his heart a third time, but now here he was, getting ready to do it again. His old fear of Scarlett's rejection was returning, but he had to put an end to that dreaded feeling. He had to confront Scarlett. He had to let her know he loved her and find out if she still loved him.

But by the time he arrived back at the house, he knew it was too late. Scarlett would be asleep, and he couldn't wake her up in the middle of the night. He'd have to wait till morning.

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He undressed and slipped into bed. But he couldn't sleep. His thoughts of what he would say to her kept replaying in his mind, and granted him no peace. Throwing on his long robe, he got up, lit a lamp, and poured a shot of brandy. He contemplated further how he would approach her in the morning.

Abruptly, he downed the brandy and banged the glass down on the table. Damn this waiting and to hell with all of this analysis that was giving him a headache. Then suddenly through the wall, he heard cries, cries that were vaguely familiar. Quickly standing, he grabbed the lamp and flew over to her side of the house. He ran to her bedroom, set the lamp down, and sat on the edge of the bed next to her.

"Scarlett, wake up," he said, shaking her gently. "It's just a bad dream, honey."

Scarlett wakened and saw Rhett's handsome face above hers. She was so relieved he was there she had to stop herself from hugging him. "Oh, Rhett, it was my old dream again!" she sobbed. "I'm running through the mist, and I'm cold and hungry, but I know if I can just get to where I'm running, I'll be safe. But I couldn't get there."

"And you still don't know who or what you're running to?" Rhett questioned softly, smoothing back her hair.

Scarlett hesitated, then shook her head.

"Well, the nightmare's over, sweet," Rhett said, taking her hand, looking into her eyes and searching for some kind of sign from her.

Then remembering his cruel words at Jacques' house, Scarlett stiffened. "Thank you, Rhett, for waking me. I'm sorry I bothered you, but you can go back to bed now. I have to get some sleep since I'll be leaving early in the morning." His face took on a confused look, then his blank mask was quickly in place and he released her hand as he rose abruptly. "Well," he said coolly, "Goodnight, then."

"Goodnight," she said, pulling the sheets over her.

As he made his way to the door, Scarlett saw something in the way Rhett carried himself, his shoulders slightly hunched in a dejected look, and somehow, that sweet vulnerability she had only recently acquired came to surface. She whispered, "You." Rhett turned and looked at her, his eyebrows coming together. Biting her lip, she continued. "It was you I was running to. You were what I was looking for in my dream, the one I knew would make me feel safe and secure and happy. And if I ever was hungry or cold or poor, I wouldn't care, as long as you were with me."

Rhett's eyes were intense as he watched her, studying her face, almost believing, but hoping, wanting, needing to be sure.

"I love you, Rhett," she said softly. Then sitting up in bed, her voice rose. "Oh, please believe me and don't dare tell me it's too late! My darling, please say you love me too and promise you won't ever leave me again! Don't let me have that nightmare anymore!" She knew she was rambling and begging, but it was too late to stop, no longer able to hold herself back as tears came, uncontrollably.

Rhett's world came rushing before him, as if he'd waited his whole life for this moment. Without waiting half a second longer he came over as swiftly and light footed as an Indian, picked her up and sat on the bed, strong arms cradling her body tightly to his.

"Scarlett, I do love you, I've never stopped loving you," he said hoarsely. "I was a wreck after Bonnie died, because I couldn't forgive myself for the way she died. You forgave me, but I couldn't forgive myself. But I have to, Scarlett. I have to so we can be happy together." He held her face in his hands. "You'll never have your nightmare again, my baby, and even if you do, I'll be right here to hold you." He drew her head to his chest and pressed his lips to her hair, holding her tightly. "And I won't leave you, as long as I know you love me."

"I'll always, always love you, Rhett!" Scarlett said, choking back more tears.

"Then I'll never leave you, my love," he rasped, his breath warm in her ear, as he placed fervent kisses all over her wet cheeks and neck.

His kisses became more passionate as her sobs and tears subsided, and she threw her arms around his neck and returned his caresses hungrily, kissing his face, his shoulders, his chest, as he shed his robe. Then his mouth found hers yearningly, and her lips parted and moved under his as he pressed her back against the pillows, reaching beneath her light nightgown to stroke her silken skin. Finally assured of her love for him, he no longer restrained himself, his longing to possess her intense but not brutal like that last night together. Scarlett shivered with delight as she gave herself completely to his touch, his strong hands exploring, sliding over her, caressing her body eagerly but tenderly, and murmuring his love as his hands moved her gown away. They clung to each other with the passion of two lovers who were destined for each other, but whose love fortune had been unkind to for so long, but with their determination had beaten the odds and forced fate to take a different stand, swinging back into their favor. They were two people whose obstinate pride, so strong in both of them, worked to keep them apart, taking them to hell and back, but their fierce love had triumphed, and ultimately managed to bind them together. And on this night, nothing else existed in the world, except the two of them and their love.


	10. Chapter 10

New Orleans

Rhett awoke first, rather late the next morning. He pulled Scarlett close to him, luxuriating in the feel of her bare body against his. In sleep, Scarlett sighed and snuggled to him, with her head on his shoulder and an arm draped across his chest, smiling slightly. He didn't wake her immediately; rather, allowed himself a few indulgent moments to hold her and think back on their night together. Never before had Scarlett been so passionate, so generous, so giving to him. She let him explore her body freely, without holding herself back, and he reveled in her fervent responses to his caresses. He closed his eyes and smiled to himself, as he thought of how he would look forward to a lifetime of such nights, and mornings as well.

As long as he'd known Scarlett, he'd been right about at least one thing. That if she had ever come around to him and returned the love he'd harbored for her all of these years, they would be so happy together. And this time, he was sure of Scarlett's love. He knew, because he could read her like a book, and there was no mistaking the look of love in her eyes, and her loving gestures toward him. Being on the receiving end of Scarlett's love was the most gratifying feeling he'd ever hoped to have. Now he would no longer keep his love for her to himself. He could finally share his love with her, and what a pleasure it would be to do it everyday for the rest of their lives together.

His inward smile extended to his mouth against her cheek, and that slight movement awakened Scarlett. The first thing she saw as she opened her eyes was Rhett's face above hers. "Good morning, Mrs. Butler," he whispered. "Oh, Rhett, it _is_ a good morning, isn't it?" she said smiling. "It is indeed, my love," he said, then placed several soft kisses on her mouth as his hand swept her body. Scarlett moaned softly as she returned his kisses, and thought that this was the happiest she'd ever been in her life.

"Have I told you how beautiful you looked last night?" Rhett said, his black eyes twinkling.

"Oh, wasn't that the most divine dress ever? Pierre helped me pick it out, well actually, he chose it for me."

"No, I meant how beautiful you were without the dress," Rhett grinned wickedly.

"Why, Rhett!" Scarlett exclaimed, trying to appear shocked by his words, then put on her best demure expression. "You, Sir, are no gentleman!"

"And you, Miss, are no lady…which is very lucky for me," he returned laughing softly, as his lips hovered between her breasts. "I have an idea," Rhett said between kisses. "Why don't we get out of this house for a few days, check into a fancy hotel, and have a second honeymoon?"

"That would be so wonderful, my darling!" Scarlett said in a breathy voice, her body tingling as Rhett's lips traveled to her throat. "Can we stay at the same hotel we stayed in the last time? Oh, I adored that place!"

"Yes, and we'll have lunch there at that Creole restaurant you loved, as I imagine you're hungry by now, since we skipped breakfast. But first, I have to make a quick stop to the warehouse. Jacques is usually there on Sundays, and I owe him an apology and a thank you. I'll explain that to you another time."

"Rhett, won't Jacques miss you at the job site next week? He's always saying how he could use an extra pair of hands, and now he won't have yours."

"I believe he'll manage without me. Besides," he said grinning and moving his body over hers, his palms sliding across her breasts, "I have a much better idea of what to do with my hands."

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Jacques saw very little of Rhett and Scarlett that week, except for the afternoon following the reception when Rhett stopped by to apologize for his words the night before, and to say thank you for knocking sense into him. Oh, and there was the time they decided to visit the job site, though he couldn't figure out why they had come, because they hardly paid attention to what was going on. Scarlett, who usually watched so intently, just stood there and giggled as Rhett, with a perpetual gleam in his eye, leaned behind her with his arms around her waist whispering in her ear. When Rhett's hands eventually traveled to places on Scarlett that were a little too intimate for public viewing, causing such a distraction to the crew that Jacques had to ask them to leave, they happily obliged. They ran hand in hand to their barouche with hired driver, and did God knows what inside as they took off, probably back to the hotel and to bed, knowing those two.

However, Jacques couldn't have been happier for his friends. They were certainly meant for each other, and he liked to think he had a small hand in their getting back together. Sure, they would have eventually reunited themselves, but who knew how long that would have taken? Rhett needed to be pushed to realize his true feelings, and though he was risking his friendship by interfering, he also knew Rhett was intelligent enough to come to the right conclusion in the end.

Rhett and Scarlett's marriage, he thought to himself, was similar to a renovation project. The foundation and the raw materials were there; it just needed some nurturing and work to reveal its natural beauty. This they had done themselves. All he'd done, he mused, was to guide the project along to a faster completion date.

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The Butler's second honeymoon was full of scrumptious dinners by candlelight, frequenting quaint shops in the Quarter, long walks along the river in the moonlight, slow dancing in the hotel ballroom, and intimate nights in their suite that seemed to go on forever. Rhett loved pampering Scarlett again, brushing her hair in the mornings, feeding her chocolates and strawberries in bed, and buying her trunks of silk lingerie and expensive gowns. Scarlett already had as many clothes as she desired, but it was so nice having Rhett pick them out for her, that she enjoyed all these new ones even more. On her part, Scarlett loved doing little things to please Rhett, like massaging his neck and shoulders, writing little love notes for him which she would douse with her perfume and leave on his pillow at night, and buying him ridiculous little gifts like a silver cigar case that held only one cigar, but had his initials engraved on the top. She would blush with pleasure as Rhett, touched by her thoughtfulness, would thank her with kisses, and playful little pinches and pats on places of her body that would make her shiver with delight.

Just about every place they would go, someone remarked on what a handsome couple they were, or how very much in love they seemed to be. "You sure do have the look of love in your eyes," a shopkeeper said to them, as she wrapped up a delicate package in many sheets of protective paper. "I'll bet you hear that a lot, though. You'd have to be blind not to see it."

"It's that obvious, is it?" Rhett said, smiling at Scarlett, as she beamed back at him.

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It was their last afternoon in New Orleans, and Rhett was having lunch with Jacques while Scarlett did some last minute shopping for gifts for Wade and Ella. Afterwards, they would be boarding a train to Atlanta, then another one to Jonesboro and back to Tara. The business was definitely off the ground and flourishing now, and Rhett had purchased several more houses at low prices for renovations. The completed houses had all been sold, and the company made a tidy profit. They had discussed how Jacques could continue running the business alone, while Rhett checked in from time to time, through correspondence and occasional visits as needed.

"I'm looking forward to having a nice home to live when Scarlett and I come back to New Orleans to visit, and we'll often be bringing the children and a few servants. We looked at that place on the corner of Esplanade and Frenchman, and Scarlett fell in love with it. I think it's just what we need, so I bought it. Of course, we'll want it renovated," Rhett said, looking at Jacques quizzically, as the corner of his mouth went up. "Do you know of anyone who might be interested in the project?"

"My God, Rhett, you purchased the Bienville house? That place has so much history, and it's the most architecturally magnificent home in the city! I would love to get my hands on that piece of property! Damn, when can I start?"

Rhett chuckled and handed him a key. "Whenever you'd like. Why don't you go look at it when you have a chance, and give your impression and ideas as to how it could be improved. I'll write to you with more details on what we may want after I discuss it with Scarlett."

"Man, this is a dream come true for me. I've always wanted to work on that house. I promise it'll be everything you want and more."

"I know it will, no need to convince me." Rhett paused as he looked at his friend. "You live for this renovation business, don't you? It's really in your blood."

"Yeah, it's actually what I look forward to every waking day. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. And I have you to thank for giving me the opportunity to work for you."

"Well, why don't you do more than that? Why don't you take over the business?" Jacques stared at Rhett, confused. "I've accomplished what I set out to do," Rhett explained. "I helped restore a community in this city that I love, and now my work is done. I'm taking my wife and moving back to Georgia. Now it's all in your hands to take it to the next level. I want to give the company to you."

Jacques' jaw dropped. He couldn't find words to express his feelings of the moment.

Rhett grinned. "Speechless for once, are you? I never thought I'd see the day when your jaw stopped flapping for more than a few seconds."

Finally finding his tongue, Jacques said, "Rhett, are you sure this is what you want to do? I mean, there's still a lot of money we can make here."

"Good, that money will be yours now. You can keep some of it, and invest the rest back into the business to help its growth. I don't need it. I started this project, in part, to get my mind off things, and to do some good in the world. I'm not much of a good deed doer, I'll admit, but at least I can put this one accomplishment on my almost blank list of good deeds. Here," he said, as he handed Jacques two checks. "One of these is for any extra expenses you may incur with the business. If you need more, you know where to reach me. And the other is for you to do whatever you want with. Go buy yourself another place to renovate, maybe a larger one to live in. It's up to you."

Jacques' jaw dropped again, but this time words came quickly. "Rhett, you really don't need to do this. I don't deserve any of this. I've just been doing what I love to do."

"You're a lucky man that can spend his days doing something he loves. And you're wrong. You do deserve everything that's coming to you. Do you have any idea what you did for Scarlett and me? It's because of you that we can finally enjoy each other."

"You would have gotten together on your own, though, Rhett, eventually."

"Perhaps, but who knows when? We're an obstinate pair, the two of us. First, it was she who was the reluctant one, and then it was I. Stubborn people like us need someone meddling in our lives to put us on the right track, and you did just that. Hopefully, that's all the meddling we'll need from now on, though. I never thought I could be happy again after Bonnie died, but now I'm happier than ever. Scarlett as well."

Jacques grinned, as he thought of how the two of them were together, how they could barely keep their hands off each other in public. "Hey Rhett, I bet Scarlett locks the bedroom door again. Except instead of locking you out, now she's locking you in."

Rhett chuckled leisurely, "Immensely better this way, I assure you."

As they walked out of the restaurant, Rhett said, "I'll have my lawyer draw up the papers to transfer the company over to you when I get back home. And Jacques, thank you again for all you've done. You'll never know the full impact of it, but I'll never forget it."

"T'waren't nothin' to it," Jacques said with an ear-to-ear grin. "Hey, don't y'all be strangers to these parts, you hear? Come visit soon, and often, even before your house is finished being renovated."

"We will," Rhett said, shaking his hand. "Good bye, my friend. See you soon."

"Good bye, Rhett."

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Train to Georgia

Scarlett and Rhett were headed home, and in the privacy of their train car, discussed their immediate future together. First, there was the matter of where they would live. They agreed that Atlanta made the most sense. Wade and Ella were more or less settled there, and Scarlett's business was there as well. With the knowledge that they had both acquired, they would run the business together, but would get it to a point where Grant Whitley, the manager, could more or less take over for them. Then, there was a house to consider.

"Are you sure you want to go back to that monstrosity you built, my dear?" Rhett questioned softly. "You know I'd live anywhere with you, Scarlett, but the memories there…" his voice broke off, and Scarlett knew he was referring to painful memories of Bonnie.

"No, my darling, I want you to enjoy our house as much as I do. We can let our construction company build a new one."

"Thank you, my love," he said gratefully. "And this one can be as grandiose and ornate as you wish, if that's what you want."

"Well, it's really not what I want anymore. Oh, don't misunderstand me, I want it to be beautiful and luxurious, but I'd also like it to be welcoming and cozy. And it doesn't have to be so big. I don't intend on throwing anymore of those lavish parties like we used to do. Just smaller ones, like for our family and close friends."

"Ah, perhaps your visit to New Orleans and seeing Jacques' masterful house renovations and the parties he's hosted has improved your taste a little. I'm glad to hear it. Well, where shall we stay in the meantime? I don't mind a few days here and there at the House of Horrors, but you know, I'd like to put it on the market soon. Maybe right before our new house is ready."

"We can stay at Tara. It's close enough to Atlanta for us to visit for just a day or two at a time, if we need to for business. You do like Tara, don't you?"

"I do indeed. Especially if we can sleep in your girlhood room. I can pretend that you're sixteen again, and I'm the big bad wolf whose come to deflower you," he said, flashing his white teeth.

"Rhett Butler, you are vile! I can't believe I'm married to a man who's such a scoundrel. And what's more," she said softly, rubbing her palm against his cheek tenderly, "that I love him as much as I do."

"And I'm in love with a green-eyed mule with a passion for scoundrels," he said grinning, before putting her hand to his lips.

They sat closely together and talked more about Tara, the children, Mammy and Pork, and the other members of the household. The train ride was long, and soon, Scarlett yawned and rested her head on Rhett's shoulder. Rhett held his arms out to her, and she crawled thankfully onto his lap. Smiling contentedly, Scarlett's breathing became more regular as she fell into a peaceful sleep, trusting Rhett's strong arms to support her. He held her closer, breathing in her hair and taking in the sweet scent that was she. And although it would be several hours before they reached their destination, Rhett knew that he was finally home.

_Epilogue to follow._


	11. Epilogue

**E p i l o g u e**

**_ATLANTA - ONE YEAR LATER_**

Rhett was reading a letter from Jacques, sitting in the library that doubled as an office, in their elegant new Victorian mansion. They had sold the House of Horrors to an oil tycoon from Texas who purchased it for his mistress, which Rhett thought very fitting, since the house's décor suited a mistress. She'd oohed and ahhed so much when seeing the place that Rhett was able to get well over market value for it. He and Scarlett still made occasional visits to Tara, staying for a few days at a time, as Scarlett could never completely leave it, and Rhett had grown to love it as well. Scarlett had been successful in coaxing Mammy, Pork, Dilcey, and Prissy over to their new house, much to Suellen's angry protests. But they came willingly, always having more of an allegiance to Scarlett than to Suellen, and besides, the fact that the Butler's had much more to offer in terms of pay didn't hurt either.

In his last letter, Jacques wrote that he and Pierre had recently parted ways, and though it was mutual and amicable, he was still feeling melancholy. Rhett had extended an invitation from he and Scarlett to come to their home in Atlanta and visit for a week, and with this letter Jacques gratefully accepted, feeling the need to get away from New Orleans for awhile, and confident that a trusted member of his crew could keep an eye on things while he was gone.

Putting the letter away, Rhett climbed up the stairs to share the news with Scarlett. He saw Mammy, who was scooting down the hall with a rustling sound. "How are you enjoying that new blue satin petticoat I gave you, Mammy? Do you like it as much as the red one?" Mammy chuckled. "I sho do, Mist' Rhett."

"Good," he said, his black eyes dancing. "Then I shall buy you more so you'll have one for every day of the week."

"You is bad, Mist' Rhett! You shouldn't be buyin' me all dese clothes to wear underneath my skirts!"

"I _will_ buy them, and you'll wear them!"

"Hee hee, you is stubborn as Miss Scarlett! Ah hopes that baby don't turn out ta be like you two mules!"

Rhett found Scarlett in the nursery, holding their three-month old to her breast, humming a lullaby as she rocked the infant. "Good afternoon, my love," he said lustily while stepping in back of her, bending down to move her hair away and place soft kisses on her neck. They had made love that morning, and Rhett was still in an amorous mood.

Bursting with love for her husband and child, Scarlett smiled and whispered, "Hello, my darling,"and placed a deep kiss on Rhett's lips. He responded in like, matching her passion, and their kiss lingered for a long while, until the baby let out a definite squall of protest. Finally breaking the caress, they laughed, as Rhett said, "I don't blame you one bit, my son. I don't like your mother's attention diverted long away from me either."

He held a finger to the baby's fist, and it was firmly gripped, as Rhett let his hand relax on Scarlett's breast, his other arm around her shoulders. They beamed lovingly at their son, as his smile returned and he happily went back to enjoying his lunch. His cheeks held Scarlett's dimples, and his eyes were already a rich brown, almost black, and full of mischief like Rhett's. His full head of hair was dark, like both his parents'. When naming him, they considered Scarlett's Irish O'Hara heritage, Rhett's surname of course, and the person who had a hand in reuniting them.

His name was Gerald Jacques Butler.

_Corny and sugary sweet, isn't it? But aren't epilogues supposed to be? And don't this couple, after all they've been through, deserve a happy, happy ending?_

_P.S. Thanks to all my reviewers. Your words meant so much, and gave me the motivation to continue._


End file.
